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GOLDEN DAYS 


By SIDNEY TOLER and MARION SHORT 


FRENCH5 STANDARD LIBRARY EOlTlO^ 


SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th St., New York 


THE REJUVENATION OF AUNT MARY. 

The famous comedy in three acts, by Anne Warner. 7 males, 6 
females. Three interior scenes. Costumes modern. Plays 2 %. hours 

This is a genuinely funny comedy with splendid parts for Aunt 
Mary/’ “Jack,” her lively nephew; “Lucinda,” a New England an- 
cient maid of all work; “Jack’s” three chums; the Girl Jack loves; 
“Joshua,” Aunt Mary’s hired man, etc. 

“Aunt Mary” was played by May Robson in New York and on tour 
for over two years, and it is sure to be a big success wherever pro- 
duced. We strongly recommend it. Price, 60 Cents. 


MRS. BUMSTEAD-LEIGH. 

A pleasing comedy, in three acts, by Harry James Smith, author of 
“The Tailor-Made Man.” 6 males, 6 females. One interior scene. 
CoBtumes modern. Plays 2)4 hours. 

Mr. Smith chose for his initial comedy the complications arising 
from the endeavors of a social climber to land herself in the altitude 
peopled by hyphenated names — a theme permitting innumerable com- 
plications, according to the spirit of the writer. 

This most successful comedy was toured for several seasons by Mrs. 
Fiske with enormous success. Price, 60 Cents. 


MRS. TEMPLE’S TELEGRAM. 

A most successful farce in three acts, by Frank Wyatt and Wil- 
liam Morris. 5 males, 4 females. One interior scene stands through- 
out the three acts. Costumes modern. Plays 2)4 hours. 

“Mrs. Temple’s Telegram” is a sprightly farce in which there i» 
an abundance of fun without any taint of impropriety or any •la- 
ment of offence. As noticed by Sir Walter Scott, “Oh, what a 
tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.” 

There is not a dull moment in the entire farce, and from the time 
the curtain rises until it makes the final drop the fun is fast and 
furious. A yery exceptional farce. Price, 60 Cents. 


THE NEW CO-ED. 

A comedy in four acts, by Marie Doran, author of “Tempest and 
Sunshine,” etc. Characters, 4 males, 7 females, though any number 
of boys and girls can be introduced in the action of the play. One 
interior and one exterior scene, but can be easily played in: one inte- 
rior scene. Costumes modern. Time, about 2 hours. 

The theme this play is the coming of a new student to the col- 
lege, her reception by the scholars, her trials and final triumph. 

There are three especially good girls’ parts, Letty, Madge and 
Rstellc, but the others have plenty to do. “Punch” Doolittle and 
George Washington Watts, a gentleman of color, are two particularly 
good comedy characters. We can strongly recommend “The New 
Co-Ed” to high schools and amateurs. Price, 30 Cents. 

(The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced) 


SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 36th Street. New YorkQty 

Htw and Explicit Descriprivi Catalogue Mailed Free or Run* 


GOLDEN DAYS 


A COMEDY IN FOUR ACTS 


BY 


SIDNEY TOLER and MARION SHORT 


CAUTION. — Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned 
that “GOLDEN DAYS,” being fully protected under the 
copyright laws of the United States and Great Britain, is 
subject to a royalty and anyone presenting the play with- 
out the consent of the authors or their authorized agents 
will be liable to the penalties by law provided. Applica- 
tion for professional and amateur acting rights must be 
made to Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th Street, New 
York City., N. Y. 


New York 

SAMUEL FRENCH 

Publisher 

28-30 West 38th Street 


London 

SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 
26 Southampton Street 
STRAND 


_ _ < 2 »^ 

1 r ^ ^ 

x 

Copyright, 1919, by Samuel French 
(Under the title of “The Golden Age”) 
(Copyright, 1919, in Canada by Samuel French) 

Rewritten and Revised, 1921, by Sidney Toler and Marion 

Short 

Copyright, 1922, by Samuel French 
All Rights Reserved 


Especial notice should be taken that the possession of 
this book without a valid contract for production first 
having been obtained from the publisher, confers no right 
or license to professionals or amateurs to produce the play 
publicly or in private for gain or charity. 

In its present form this play is dedicated to the reading 
public only,, and no performance, representation, produc- 
tion, recitation, or public reading may be given except by 
special arrangement with Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th 
Street, New York. 

This play may be presented by amateurs upon payment 
of a royalty of Twenty-Five Dollars for each perform- 
ance, payable to Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th Street, 
New York, one week before the date when the play i: 
given. 

Whenever the play is produced the following notice must 
appear on all programs, printing and advertising tor the 
play : “Produced by special arrangement with Samuel 
French of New York.” 

Attention is called to the penalty provided by law for 
any infringement of the author’s rights, as follows: 

“Section 4966 : — Any person publicly performing or rep- 
resenting any dramatic or musical composition for which 
copyright has been obtained, without the consent of the 
proprietor of said dramatic or musical composition, or his 
heirs and assigns, shall be liable for damages thereof, 
such damages, in all cases to be assessed at such sum, not 
less than one hundred dollars for the first and fifty dol- 
lars for every subsequent performance, as to the court 
shall appear to be just. If the unlawful performance and 
representation be wilful and for profit, such person or 
persons shall be guilty of a misdemeanor, and upon con- 
viction shall be imprisoned for a period not exceeding one 
year.”— U, S. Revised Statutes : Title 60, Chap. 3. 

MOV - 1 1922 ( 

©CI.D «2«3fi. : ,' 


-fc/' 



CAST OF CHARACTERS 

Lloyd Henderson 

“Teddy” Farnum 

William Barclay 

Richard Stanhope 

Charlie Mason 

Edgar Moon 

Frank Montgomery 

Mrs. Drexel Kirkland 

Elaine Jewett 

Trelle Webb 

Patty Ellison 

Annabelle Larsh 

Of New York’s social 400 

Felice, Mrs. Kirkland’s French maid. 

Sarah Applegate Slissy 
Betsy Scroggins 
Mrs. John Simmonds 
Mary Anne Simmonds 

NOTE. — The above cast may be shortened appreciably 
by distributing the lines assigned to the lesser char- 
acters of Moon, Montgomery and Annabelle Larsh 
among the other members of the company. 

SYNOPSIS OF SCENES 
ACT I 

Sitting room in the Simmonds’ home, Farmdale, Conn. 
Spring, 1917. 

(The Bud.) 

ACT II 

Parlor of the new Farmdale Hotel, Farmdale. 

Same evening. 

(The Blossom) 

ACT III 

An upstairs sitting room in Mrs. Kirkland’s home, New York. 
Summer, 1917. 

(The full blown Rose.) 

ACT IV 

Same as Act I. 

Spring, 1919. 

(The perfume of Romance.) 

3 


























GOLDEN DAYS 


Scene: Sitting-room of the Simmonds' home. The 
furniture is largely of the old-fashioned horse- 
hair variety, with mahogany tables, cabinets, etc. 
Family portraits in oval and other frames on the 
wall. An inherited assortment of bric-a-brac on 
the mantelpiece, c., also a clock and an old to- 
bacco-Jar (opaque). The tobacco-jar is a relic 
of Mr. Simmonds and is necessary to the ac- 
tion of the play. At extreme right stands an 
old melodeon. Against wall at l. a cabinet for 
silverware , etc. Old-fashioned oil lamps rest on 
both organ and cabinet. Mahogany tables have 
been carefully placed at R. and l. to receive 
emergency tea-room guests from the porch out- 
side. The porch is visible through French win- 
dows (made in three sections) which round the 
corner of the room up l., and through these 
windows the sign “Tea Room ■’ is visible on a 
post. On the porch may be glimpsed a rustic 
tea-table and chair. Above the organ at r. is a 
small stand containing telephone book zvith wall 
telephone close at hand. Oblique in R. is a door 
to kitchen quarters. Through this door when 
open a glimpse of practical stairway is seen. 
At l. double doors lead to hallway and front 
door (zvhich is not seen). Armchairs are at r. 
5 


6 


GOLDEN DAYS 


of table at r. and at l. of table at l ., with small 
chairs on inner side. On the tables are fancy 
covers. A small stand with flower-vase is up 
near mantel-piece. An old-fashioned piano stool 
stands in front of the organ, and one or two 
small chairs are conveniently placed. The 
whole effect of the room is tidy, but both wall- 
paper and furnishings are somewhat outworn, 
as is the carpet on the floor. 

Time : The afternoon of a warm, sunny day in June, 
1917. 

Discovered: Mrs. Simmonds, Betsy and Miss 
Slissy. Mrs. Simmonds and Betsy have their 
sleeves rolled up and are dusting the furniture 
and putting things to rights, Mrs. Simmonds 
with great energy, Betsy lackadaisically. It is 
at once apparent that they are mistress and 

Miss Slissy, village milliner and dressmaker 
of uncertain years, occupies armchair at r., her 
sewing-bag on table at her side, a hat in her 
hands which she is trimming rather gaudily. Her 
dress expresses a somewhat ludicrous compro- 
mise between painstaking economy and a pas- 
sion for the-fad-of-the-moment in style. 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Continuing a conversation al- 
ready begun) Of course I’m tickled to death, but 
she gave me no warning at all, just telegraphed this 
morning she’d be here this afternoon. I’d calculated 
to house-clean a whole week before she came, so’s 
everything would be spick and span. 

Miss Slissy. (Fusses with needle and thread) 
Dust is terrible this time of year, all owin’ to them 
automobiles. No sooner does it settle from one 
than here comes another. 


GOLDEN DAYS 


7 


Mrs. Simmonds. (Nervously anxious to rid her- 
self of Miss Slissy) I thought you said, Sairey, 
you could finish that hat in ten minutes. That must 
have been two hours ago. So you’ll excuse me for 
goin’ right ahead, 'won’t you ? 

Miss Slissy. (Refusing to take a hint) Cer- 
tainly, don’t mind me. I didn’t s’pose I’d set the 
afternoon, but sometimes things take longer than 
you calculate they will, like this hat for Mary Anne. 
My, but it’s cute ! Sometimes I don’t know which 
I’m best at, millinery or dressmakin’. Guess it must 
be six of one and half-dozen of the other. Now 
that chick dress I made over for the station agent’s 
sister-in-law 

Betsy. (Her speech is a drawl, and she smites 
lazily at furniture with a dust cloth) How “made 
over” ? 

Miss Slissy. (Heedless of a nervous exclama- 
tion from Mrs. Simmonds J Well, I brought the 
full part to the top, and the waist-band narrow part 
down to the bottom to save material 

Betsy. Was it stylish? 

Miss Slissy. Stylish? The first time she tried 
to step onto a trolley car in it, three men almost got 
run over. 

Mrs. Simmonds. Betsy, stop talkin’, now, and 
carry out that scrap-basket. ( Brings vase from 
small stand and sets it on table l.) Miss Slissy, 
my sister’ll be here most any time now. 

Miss Slissy. Well, you ain’t askin’ me to go 
home, be you? 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Weakening) Of course not. 
(Goes over to organ and dusts.) 

(Betsy exits r. with waste-basket.) 

Miss Slissy. I want to see what she’s wear- 


8 


GOLDEN DAYS 


in’. In my business I have to keep up with the New 
York styles right along. (Gazing at hat.) There, 
that’s finished. Where’d Mary Anne go? 

Mrs. Simmonds. She’s gathering some lilacs for 
decoration. They’re her aunt’s favorite flower. 

Miss Slissy. ’Course it’s natural to fix up for 
rich relatives. 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Resents the idea) We’d do 
it just the same if she didn’t have a penny. 

Miss Slissy. Well, I ain’t sayin’ you wouldn’t. 

Mrs. Simmonds. Mary Anne simply worships 
her Aunt Maria. Betsy! (Crosses to c. Goes to 
door r.) That’s the laziest mortal that ever drew 
the breath of life. ( Calls again) Betsy! (She 
opens the door R.) What do you mean by sitting 
there as if there was nothing to do but gaze at the 
woodshed ? 

Betsy. (Lazily enters r.) I wasn’t gazing at the 
woodshed. 

Mrs. Simmonds. Then what were you looking 
at? 

Betsy. The hired man. 

Mrs. Simmonds. What’s the matter with him? 

Betsy. He’s got new boots. 

Mrs. Simmonds. I suppose if I told you to dust 
the hired man, for once in your life you’d stick to 
your work. 

Betsy. Ye-yes-m ! 

Mrs. Simmonds. (To c.) He’s the only article 
you seem to be able to keep your mind on. 

Miss Slissy. Well, he is sort of good lookin’, at 
a distance. 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Dusting mantelpiece) And 
the further the distance, the better looking he gets. 
(To Betsy,) Wipe off that table! (Points l.J 

(Betsy barely stops at table, but goes on and wipes 


\ 



Golden Days” See page 11 













GOLDEN DAYS 


9 

the chair l. by window , her attention caught by 
something outside.) 

Miss Slissy. Have many customers to-day? 

Mrs. Simmonds. Some, but most of the trade 
comes Saturdays. 

Miss Slissy. How d’ye suppose your rich sister 
will take it, you runnin’ a tea-shop? Most wealthy 
folks is kind of high and mighty. 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Comes down to table L.) 
Don’t let that worry you, Miss Slissy. My sister’s 
too fine a woman to have any false pride. (She 
lets the remainder of her pique out on Betsy ) Land 
sakes, Betsy, don’t keep on rubbin’ as if that leg 
had a case of rheumatism. Change off to the back. 

(Betsy sloivly attacks back of chair , still gazing out 
of window.) 

Miss Slissy. Is she cornin’ for quite a stay i 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Dusting here and there) Yes. 
She’s tired and needs a rest. 

Miss Slissy. Shouldn’t think she'd get tired — 
what with three hired girls. They say she don’t 
even go to market herself. 

Betsy. (At window L.) And she wears silk 
nightgowns, silk all over. I saw ’em once and felt 
’em. They’re nice and crawly to your fingers. 

Miss Slissy. Mercy me ! Reminds me of cater- 
pillars ! ( Shudders.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Pointing to zvindow curtains 
that have been knotted up to keep them out of the 
dust) Betsy, let down them curtains, and dust off 
the mantel ornaments. They look like the dirt had 
been on ’em since Noah occupied the Ark. 

(Betsy slowly lets dozvn curtains, her attention out- 
side.) 


10 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Miss Slissy. Such Babylonian extravagance ! 
Silk night gowns ! I thought nobody but moving- 
picture actresses wore them things. 

Mrs. Simmonds. I’m sure a body could sleep 
just as well in silk ones as they could in the others. 

Miss Slissy. (Virtuously) I wear seersucker. 
They don’t even have to be ironed. 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Brings vase from mantel to 
table l.) Well, it’s her money and I guess she can 
do with it as she feels like. (Notices Betsy at l., 
staring out of window.) Betsy, what in the world 
are you starin’ at? 

Betsy. (Turning regretfully from window) The 
hired man. 

Mrs. Simmonds. Good land! Is the hired man 
on all sides of the house at once? 

Betsy. (Moves toward door l.) Shall I go out 
and see ? 

Mrs. Simmonds. No, you’ll not. Come away 
from that door. (To Miss Slissy,) That girl’s 
got no more sense of humor than a guinea hen. (To 
Betsy,) Go out in the kitchen and scour up the 
pans I left in the sink; and if you find the hired 
man on that side of the house, ask him to take off 
his boots for you to put on the organ for an orna- 
ment to look at. 

Betsy. (With unusual alacrity) Yes, um. (Exits 
at r.J 

Mrs. Simmonds. I do believe she thought I 
meant it. She’s got no more sense of humor than — 
(Throws up her hands in despair.) 

(Mary Anne enters through window at l. She 
carries a huge armful of lilacs and comes back 
of table at ,l.) 

Mary Anne. Here they are, Mother. I picked 


GOLDEN DAYS 


ii 


the prettiest ones I could find. See, Miss Slissy? 

Miss Slissy. Umph hm. Here’s your hat, and 
if I do say it myself, it’s one of my swellest crea- 
tions. (She holds it up for inspection and Mary 
Anne, laying most of the lilacs on table , crosses to 
her, looking at the hat doubtfully.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. (l.c.) Don’t you like it, Mary 
Anne ? 

Mary Anne. Y-es. (Holds hat out and regards 
it critically) But isn’t it just a little — enthusiastic? 

Miss Slissy. Variety of flowers and fruits is all 
the style — the gayer the stylisher. And it just 
matches your new dress. You’re going to look 
grand in it at the party to-night. 

Mary Anne. (Trying to like the hat) Which 
is -the front? 

Miss Slissy. It’s reversible — that’s the latest. 
Cornin’ or goin’, you’ll look just the same. Try it 
on. 

(Mary Anne lifts hat almost to her head, then her 
courage fails.) 

Mary Anne. I’ll try it on when I’m dressed. 
Won’t you have a posy? 

Miss Slissy. (Accepts the spray of lilacs Mary 
Anne offers) Much obliged. They say flowers 
bring out your complexion if you have any, and I 
always did pride myself on having considerable. 

Mary Anne. (Putting lilacs in vases on table at 
l.) Dear Aunt Maria! I can hardly realize that 
in a few minutes she’ll be here, right in this room 
with us! 

Miss Slissy. Well, goodness knows I should 
think your ma would, after all the fussin’ around 
she’s been doin’. 


12 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Mrs. Simmonds. Do you suppose she’ll come in 
her automobile, Mary Anne? 

Mary Anne. I hope so. I’d just adore riding 
around in it. 

Miss Slissy. (Slowly putting thread, etc., back 
into sewing-bag) There’s a whole crowd of city 
folks expected at the hotel to the dance to-night. 
Billy Barclay is bringing some of ’em in his motor 
car. 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Snaps, turning on Miss Slis- 
sy J Yes, Miss Slissy, we knew it. 

Miss Slissy. And that Miss Elaine Jewett who 
was here two summers ago — she’s with ’em. 

Mary Anne. (To r.c.J Elaine? 

(Mrs. Simmonds glances at Mary Anne appre- 
hensively.) 

Miss Slissy. Yes. She and her folks are going 
to live right in the Barclay cottage cause Mr. and 
Mrs. Barclay ain’t cornin’ down this summer. They 
say young Billy’s just crazy about Elaine. 

Mary Anne. Honestly, Miss Slissy, I’m not a 
bit interested in the Barclays or the Jewetts. 

Miss Slissy. Well, I’m surprised ! Remember- 
in’ Billy used to be kind of sweet on you, Mary 
Anne, I thought maybe you’d like to know what’s 
been 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Indignantly, down c.) That’s 
been more than a year ago, Sairy Applegate Slissy, 
and neither me nor Mary Anne is caring to have 
you talk about it. (Takes vase of lilacs from Mary 
Anne, placing it on mantel.) 

Mary Anne. (Proudly) Miss Slissy may talk 
all she likes, Mother, as far as I’m concerned ; why 
shouldn’t she? 

Miss Slissy. Why, Mrs. Simmonds, you sur- 


GOLDEN DAYS 


13 


prise me. Flyin’ off the handle like that! You ain’t 
got nothin’ serious against Billy Barclay, -have you? 

Mrs. Simmonds. (c. Her voice trembling ) 

Nothing except 

Mary Anne. (Warningly) Mother! 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Impulse overcoming her) 
Except I don’t think he’s quite as honorable as some 
young men I’ve known. (Works down to c.) 
There, I will say that much, Mary Anne, even 
though I do know Miss Slissy’ll be sure to repeat it. 
(Moves to b.) 

Miss Slissy. Not honorable? Um! 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Dusting furiously at cabinet, 
extreme l.J Dear me, I’d like to get rid of this 
dust, and — some other things I could mention. 

Miss Slissy. I can remember that barn dance at 
the Hillsby’s, and Mary Anne wearing that pretty 
white and blue dress I made for her. Billy danced 
with her the whole evening and all the other girls 
settin’ around so jealous they almost had a fit. (She 
pauses to see the effect of her words.) He wasn’t 
here last summer at all, was he? 

Mary Anne. (With dignity) No, he wasn’t, 
Miss Slissy. 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Bursting with indignation) 
And it’s nothin’ against Mary Anne if he wasn’t. 

Mtss Slissy. Course not. I don’t mean no of- 
fense. We oughtn’t to take rich young fellows too 
serious. Elaine Jewett engaged me by letter to do 
some sewin’ for her, beginnin’ -co-morrow. 

Mary Anne. Indeed ! 

Miss Slissy. Shouldn’t wonder, considerin’ the 
way they say she and Billy Barclay have been carry- 
in’ on in New York last winter, it might be the 
weddin’ trousoo. And that’s where I shine. (Mary 
Anne takes vase to l., small table in window. Miss 


14 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Slissy, rising, to Mrs. Simmonds,) Seems to me 
Mary Anne’s lookin’ kind of droopy. 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Snaps) No one else thinks 
so. 

Miss Slissy. (A step up stage c., to Mary 
Anne) Get yourself another beau, Mary Anne. 
Ain’t nothing like it to chirk you up. 

Mary Anne. I don’t need chirking up, Miss 
Slissy, thank you! (Miss Slissy picks up work- 
bag and puts on her hat. The others shozu visible 
signs of relief.) 

Miss Slissy. Oh, ain’t got no tea ready made, 
have you? I don’t mind if it’s stood awhile. 

Mrs. Simmonds. As I said before, we’re ex- 
pectin’ my sister any minute now, and 

Miss Slissy. Oh, well, don’t bother. (Mary 
Anne takes vase of lilacs over across to organ above 
the others.) But seein’ that you’d opened a tea 
shop I was just going to patronise you some. (Ar- 
ranges hat-pin.) I’ll drop around in a few days 
and call on your sister if I get time from the 
sewin’. 

Mrs. Simmonds. (c.) Don’t interrupt yourself 
to do it, Sairey. It’ll no doubt take most of your 
time, if it’s a weddin’! 

Mary Anne. (r. corner) Mother! 

READY pounding effect , and horn. 

Miss Slissy. (To Mary Anne,) If it wasn’t 
that your ma’s run down and nervous, I’d think she 
was takin’ that weddin’ to heart some. 

Mrs. Simmonds. Well, let me tell you this, Miss 
Slissy, if any man on earth thinks he’s too good for 
my Mary Anne 

Mary Anne. (Desperately) Mother, please ! 

Mrs, Simmonds. (To r.c.) Excuse me, Mary 
Anne. I’m goin’ out now and make some beat bis- 
cuits for dinner, so if you hear me hammerin', you’ll 


GOLDEN DAYS 


i5 

know what it is. (Up to door r. She glares at 
Miss Slissy.) Good afternoon, Miss Slissy. (She 
exits off r.J 

Miss Slissy. (Moving up r., around table and 
to Mary c.) Dear me! Don’t she get fussy over 
nothin’? Well — if it is Miss Jewett’s weddin’ 
things, Mary Anne, I’ll let you look at them on the 
Q.T. 

Mary Anne. (A break in her voice) I — I told 
you once I’m not interested in Miss Jewett. ( Crosses 
up c. to mantel.) 

Miss Slissy. (Up r. of MaryJ Well, you and 
your ma needn’t act so high and mighty even though 
you have got a rich relation cornin’ to visit you. 

Mary Anne. ( On verge of tears, c., by mantel ) 
Have you — been paid for the — hat? 

Miss Simmonds. Yes, I have, and though I do 
say it myself, I think $4.75 is little enough to charge 
for such an unusual creation as that is! (She exits 
l. Mary Anne stands c. by fireplace, dejected.) 

(Betsy enters through door r. She has the hired 
man's new boots in her hand. She carries them 
over and carefully places them on the organ r. 
Lauqhs sentimentally, then turns and sees Mary 
AnneJ 

Mary Anne. What is it, Betsy? 

Betsy. Ain’t vou feelin’ good. Mary Anne ? 

POUNDING . 

Mary Anne. (Tries to smile) Just a little tired, 
I think. 

(From kitchen off r. comes the sound of pounding. 
Betsy listens, then goes to door r. and looks 

off.) 


i6 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Betsy. Your ma’s whoppin’ mad about some- 
thin’ an’ she’s takin‘ it out on the dough. (A motor 
horn is heard off l.J Maybe that’s your aunt now. 

Mary Anne. (Go^s to window l.) Yes. I’m 
sure it is. It’s A aria. Tell mother, Betsy! 

Betsy. Yes, n. (Calls) Mrs. Simmonds ! 
Here’s the automobile. It’s your sister! (Exits 
Off *.) 

(Mary Anne stands at the door a moment, then 
waves her hand to the car, which comes nearer , 
then she runs across the porch and exits l. 
Mrs. Simmonds comes in r. zvith Betsy. She 
wipes flour off hands on her apron.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. Land sakes, and me all over 
flour ! Run out and help her with the things, Betsy. 
( Gives Betsy cL gentle shove toward the window l. 
and follows , dusting herself.) Hurry, girl! Don’t 
be slow ! Hurry ! 

(Betsy exits windoiv l., followed by Mrs. Sim- 
monds. Outside Mary Anne is heard in 
greeting.) 

Mary Anne. Aunt Maria! Oh, I’m so glad to 
see you ! 

Mrs. Kirkland. And I you, my dear! 

> 

(There are other ad lib. greetings from Mrs. Sim- 
monds. Mary Anne and Mrs. Kirkland 
enter l. and go r. Mrs. Simmonds follows.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. Land sakes, Maria, you grow 
younger every time I see you. Make yourself right 
at home. I’ll have everything brought in. (Call: 
out l. as she stands at the windoiv) Betsy, bring 


< 


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Golden Days” See page 19 













































V,* 






















•••* 































ir- 

5 ‘ 






























































GOLDEN DAYS 


17 

those things into the house. .(Turns to her sister) 
You don’t know how we’ve looked forward to your 
cornin’ ! 

(Betsy enters l. with golf -bag and hand-bags . 
Felice, Mrs. Kirkland's maid, follows with 
shawl- strap.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. Betsy, help Mrs. Kirkland with 
her grips. How do you do, Felice? 

(Mary Anne has taken her aunt’s coat and now 
hands it to Betsy as she conies over above c.) 

Felice. (To Mrs. Simmonds,) Well, thank you, 
Madame. 

Mrs. Simmonds. Betsy, show Felice where the 
rooms are and where to put their things. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Just the same sweet Mary 
Anne, only sweeter. 

Mrs. Simmonds. There, Maria, beginnin’ to spoil 
her before you’re here two seconds! 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Has observed the flowers 
about the room ; noiv goes to the organ r. and 
touches the lilacs.) For me, Mary Anne? 

Mary Anne. (At r.c.J You see I remembered. 
Mrs. Kirkland. (Smells them) Um ... the 
dear old-fashioned things! (Betsy and Felice go 
to c. Sees the boots and picks them up, laughing.) 
What are they, Amanda? Antiques? 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Following her gaze, crosses 
to Mrs. Kirkland and takes the boots up to Betsy.) 
Land sakes! if that girl didn’t literally take me at 
my word. Betsy, has the hired man gone down to 
the pasture without his boots? (Over to Betsy . ) 

(Mrs. Kirkland goes to Mary Anne. Both stand 
up l.c., watching Mrs. Simmonds and Betsy.J 


i8 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Betsy. Well, you told me 

Mrs. Simmonds. Never mind what I told you, 
Maybe he isn’t gone yet. Take ’em out to him — he 
might run a thorn in his foot and get lockjaw. 
Betsy. I think he’s already got it. 

TRUNK ready l. 

(Betsy takes the boots tenderly and exits r. with 
Felice. Mrs. Simmonds goes down r.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. ( Sits l. of table r.c.) Well, 
thank goodness, I’m here ! And now for a rest and 
a little real country life. Sometimes I envy you, 
Amanda. (Mary Anne sits on arm of Mrs. 
Kirkland’s chair.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. You wouldn’t long, when you’d 
see all the work that’s to be done. 

Mrs. Kirkland. What’s the explanation of all 
those tables on the porch ? An outdoor church sup- 
per ? 

Mary Anne. Why, Aunty, didn’t you see the 
sign, “Tea Room,” on the post? 

Mrs. Kirkland. Tea Room? Why, you don’t 

mean to say, Amanda 

Mrs. Simmonds. Well, so many automobile 
tourists got in the habit of askin’ for one thing and 

another — we thought we might as well 

Mrs. Kirkland. Amanda, I’m ashamed of you. 
Here I am with all my money and not a chick nor a 
child! If it weren’t for that old-fashioned pride of 
yours > 

Mrs. Simmonds. Land sakes, can’t a body 

Mary Anne. Oh, it’s lots of fun, Auntie. 

(There is a sound off l. as of a trunk being dumped 
on the porch.) 


GOLDEN DAYS 


19 


Mrs. Simmonds. (Looking l.) What’s that? 

Mary Anne. (Moves up, looking off L.) It’s 
your trunk, Auntie. Your chauffeur just brought 
it onto the porch. 

Mrs. Kirkland. My what? 

(Mrs. Simmonds crosses at back of table l.) 

Mary Anne. Your chauffeur. 

Mrs. Kirkland. My chauffeur! ( Laughs . Mary 
Anne returns to c.) Good heavens, I’d almost for- 
gotten him! (She rises and calls off l. humorously) 
Oh! Bring it in here, Watkins. (Richard Stan- 
hope, son of one of Nciv York’s multi-millionaires, 
a tall, athletic youth with a wonderful sense of hu- 
mor, a quality which Mrs. Kirkland admires and 
shares with him, enters the room through door l. 
with the auto trunk on his shoulders.) Place it 
there, Watkins. 

Dick. (Mystified) What’s the “Watkins” idea? 

Mrs. Kirkland. (To Mrs. SimmondsJ Aman- 
da, this is Watkins, my chauffeur. ( She laughs 
again heartily. Dick grins.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Looks at him critically) Pretty 
well dressed for a chauffeur. 

Mary Anne. (Pause, a trifle embarrassed) 
Aunty, you’re joking. He isn’t your chauffeur. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Laughs) This is Richard Stan- 
hope, of New York — (He shakes hands with Mary 
Anne) — who picked me up about twenty miles 
from here when I got stuck in a frost hole. (Dick 
puts trunk down. Laughs.) This hero brought us 
bag and baggage into town. This is my sister, Mrs. 
Simmonds 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Crosses to c.) I’m pleased 
to meet you. (Dick shakes hands.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. And my niece, Mary Anne. 


20 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Dick. (Rather diffidently) Yes — we have — - — 

Mrs. Simmonds. I was going to tell you to take 
the trunk upstairs, but now Ell wait till the hired 
man comes back. 

Dick. Hired man? Why, he can’t touch me as a 
baggage-smasher. I could wreck all four corners at 
once. (He picks up trunk and swings it to his 
shoulder.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Laughing) Well, seeing that 
you’re bent on it. Mary Anne, show Mr. Stanhope 
the front room. 

(Mary Anne goes over to r. entrance, followed by 
Dick.) 

Mary Anne. (To DickJ Funny — my calling 
you a chauffeur! 

Dick. Oh, that’s all right. I’ve been called lots 
worse names than that. 

(Mary Anne smiles and holds the door open r. 

They exit.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. (To r. of table r.) He seems 
a nice boy. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Laughing. Crosses to table r.) 
Just as nice as though his father weren’t worth mil- 
lions and millions ! 

Mrs. Simmonds. Is he with that crowd that are 
giving the dance at the hotel to-night? 

Mrs. Kirkland. I think he did speak about it. 

Mrs. Simmonds. They advertise the new hotel 
as “the last word in sumptuousness.” 

Mrs. Kirkland. Farmdale needed to improve 
on the old one. ' ( Crosses to r., sitting l. of table. ) 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Sitting r. of table) It’s Jim 


GOLDEN DAYS 


21 


Barclay's money that built it. You remember the 
Barclays, don’t you? 

Mrs. Kirkland. Oh, yes. The Barclays have 
made a lot of money in munitions and shipping in the 
past two years. Farmdale is a little too small for 
them now, I understand. 

Mrs. Simmonds. Yes, and there’s an old sayin’ 
that some folks can’t stand prosperity. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Has it affected them much? 

(Enter Mary Anne and Dick r.J 

Mrs. Simmonds. Some. Especially their son. 

Dick. (c. Mary Anne at table l. To Mrs. 
Kirkland) Any further orders, ma’am? 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Laughing) No, I think that 
will be all. Dickie, you’re a darling! Are you 
going back to-night? 

Dick. No, not to-night. There’s a little dance 
on at the hotel and Billy’s brought a crowd out from 
town. 

Mrs. Simmonds. Yes, so we heard. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Thank you, Dickie. 

Dick. Not at all. (With dignity.) I’m very 
glad to have met you, Mrs. Simmonds, and — (A 
resumption of the boyish manner ) — and you, too. 
(This last to Mary Anne. Dick crosses and exits 
off L.J 

Mrs. Simmonds. (To c.) There, I might have 
asked him to have a cup of tea ! 

Mary Anne. Oh, dear, why didn’t you? (To 
window.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. Well, I’ll have some, Amanda. 

Mrs. Simmonds. (To entrance r. 3J I can have 
it ready in a minute. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Not here. (Rises. Mary Anne 


22 


GOLDEN DAYS 


goes to Aunt Kirkland,) Let’s go out in the 
kitchen and I’ll help make it. 

Mrs. Simmonds. (As they all move to rJ Now, 
Maria, you never will let me wait on you. 

Mrs. Kirkland. No, and never will. I’m here 
to wait on myself. (Exit Mrs. Simmonds.,) Come 
on, Mary Anne. It was sweet of you to pick all 
these lilacs for me, and I love them. 

Mary Anne. (As they walk to door R.J The 
yard’s just full of them, Aunty. Wait till you see, 
and a fine bed of tulips — and the nasturtiums are 
coming along, too ; they’ll be blooming in another 
week. (They exit r., closing the door.) 

(After a brief pause Trella Webb enters the win- 
dow l. She comes into the room , looking about 
curiously. Elaine Jewett follows, looking 
back. They are both idtra fashionable girls, 
about 17 and 18.) 

Trella. I’m perishing for a cup of tea. 

Elaine. (At window) I wonder who that boy 
was? Looked a little like Dickie Stanhope. 

Trella. (Goes to c.) Well, he’s coming to the 
dance, you know. 

Elaine. But what’s he doing here? 

Trella. I don’t know. It says “Tea Room” on 
the sign post out there. (Looks around.) Doesn’t 
seem to be any one around. 

Elaine. Isn’t there a bell or anything? (Crosses 
to R.) 

Trella. Maybe this is it. (Pulls an old-fashioned 
bell-cord at l. of the fireplace and goes down l.) 

Elaine. ( Goes r. of c.) I wonder if this is the 
girl. 

Trella. This is where Billy said she lived. 

Elaine, (c.) I feel almost silly coming here 


GOLDEN DAYS 


23 

like this, but IVe been crazy to see what she looked 

like. Of course I’m not jealous, but 

Trella. Well, I should say not. Billy's taken 
you to every dance for the last year. You should 
worry ! 


(Mary Anne enters r.) 

Mary Anne. I beg your pardon. The tables 
are on the porch. 

Elaine. Goodness, it’s the little girl I met two 
summers ago. Please excuse us for walking in 
like this, but the sign said, “Tea Room," and 

Mary Anne. Oh, that’s all right. How do you 
do? I 

Elaine. Can you bring us some tea? 

Mary Anne. I’ll call Betsy. (Sees her hat on 
the table r. and takes it up.) 

Elaine. Well, please come back yourself. I’d 
like to speak with you. 

Mary Anne. Me? (Pauses a moment in sur- 
prise.) Oh, yes, certainly. (She exits rJ 

Trella. She’s rather pretty. 

Elaine. ( Goes c.) In her simple way, yes. Let 
me talk to her alone, will you? 

Trella. (Eagerly) What are you going to say? 

Elaine. I want to find out for sure about Billy. 

Trella. Now, Elaine, you don’t really think he’d 
prefer 

Elaine. Then what’s he coming to this house 
for? 

Trella. He used to live in Farmdale. They 
went to school together. Naturally he must say 
how do you do to some of his old friends. 

Elaine. He doesn’t speak of her like that, 
though. She was more than a friend. She was 


24 GOLDEN DAYS 

(Mary Anne enters r.J 

Mary Anne. Tea will be here in a moment. 
Elaine. Thank you. I have forgotten your 

name. I meet so many people, Miss — Miss 

Mary Anne. (Almost comically formal) Mary 
Anne Simmonds. 

(Trella snickers out loud and to cover it moves 
down L. towards the window.) 

Elaine. Trella, that hammock looks comfortable 
and cozy, till tea is ready. Suppose you try it. 
(Trella exits l., smiling. Elaine turns to Mary 
AnneJ Come and sit down. I want to ask you 
something. 

(Mary Anne goes and sits l. with Elaine. Elaine 
is beautifully gowned in marked contrast to 
Mary Anne.J 

Mary Anne. ( r. of table l'. With dignity) 
Well, what was it you wanted to ask me, Miss 
Jewett? 

Elaine. ( l. of table l.) Mm — you remembered 
my name? 

Mary Anne. It hasn’t been so long since you 
were here, and then I’ve heard your name quite 
often since. 

Elaine. Since when? 

Mary Anne. Since I heard you were coming to 
spend the summer in the Barclay cottage. 

Elaine. (Carelessly) Oh, that’s right! That’s 
just what I wanted to inquire about. You — know 
Billy Barclay, don’t you? 

Mary Anne. Yes — of course. We used to go 
to school together. I’ve known him all my life. 


GOLDEN DAYS 


25 

Elaine. How interesting ! Somehow I imagined 
you were just the one who could tell me the things 
I’ve wondered about, and sure enough you are! 
(Takes vanity bag off her wrist , looks in mirror, 
and starts to powder her nose.) Wasn’t there some 
little country girl around here Billy thought he was 
in love with? 

Mary Anne. (A little coldly) Why do you wish 
to know that, Miss Jewett? 

Elaine. Well, naturally, before a girl makes up 
her mind to accept a young man (Shrugs.) 

Mary Anne. (In low voice) Oh, I understand! 
Yes, I believe there was — a girl. 

Elaine. A girl who thought he was fond of her? 

Mary Anne. Yes, who thought he was fond of 
her ; but she knows better now. She hasn’t any hold 
on him. There’ll never be any reproaches. That’s 
what you wanted to feel sure of, isn’t it? 

Elaine. Of course. I’m awfully curious about 
her, somehow. You must have known her — what 
kind of a girl was she? 

Mary Anne. (With dignity) She was just like 
other girls. 

Elaine. And I suppose she believed every word 
he said to her — poor little thing ! 

Mary Anne. She did believe every word — as if 
it were the gospel truth, but she’s not a poor little 
thing. And she’s much too sensible to let any boy 
make her unhappy. 

Elaine. Do tell me what became of her. 

Mary Anne. Why — nothing. She’s living right 
near here and she’s — perfectly happy. 

Elaine. Oh, come now! A boy with Billy’s 
money isn’t picked up every day. 

Mary Anne. She never thought of his money, 
not once. Besides, when they were engaged, he 
didn’t have a penny, he 


26 GOLDEN DAYS 

Elaine. Oh, but why should you get excited 
over it? 

Mary Anne. (Trying to regain her poise) It 
— it’s natural. She was quite a good friend of mine. 
Elaine. Was she ? 

Mary Anne. (Looking for a chance to escape, 
rises) Yes, I’ll hurry Betsy with the tea. 

Elaine. Make it for three. Billy Barclay is go- 
ing to join us here in a few minutes. ( Face to audi- 
ence.) 

Mary Anne. (Joyfully) Coming here? Billy? 
Elaine. Yes. You have no objections, I hope? 

READY horn. 

Mary Anne. Why — yes — no — why should I? 
Of course not. (Exits r.J 

(Elaine rises. Trella enters from l. upper win- 
dozv.) 


Trella. Well? 

Elaine. (Whispering) She’s the one, all right. 
And he called her a rose ! 

Trella. Tea rose, he must have meant. (Trella 
laughs loudly. Betsy enters with tea-tray, service 
for three and biscuits. Trella looks at her l.) 
Goodness! What’s this? 

Betsy, (c.) Tea. 

Elaine. (Steps up stage. Points R.j Serve it 
there. 

Betsy. Ain’t going to have it in here, are you ? 
Elaine. Why not? 

Betsy. Cause the tea tables is all on the porch. 
Elaine. (At mantel) But we prefer it here. 
(They pause, looking at each other . Trella goes 
r. to mantel. Betsy to table r.J 
Betsy. (After a pause) Going to eat it standir/ 
up or siftin' down? 


GOLDEN DAYS 


27 

Trella. (Laughs) Isn’t she funny? (Crosses 
and sits R. of table r.) 

HORN . 

Betsy. He drinks tea when there ain’t any cof- 
fee. 

Trella. He? Who? 

Betsy. The hired man. 

Elaine. ( Crosses to window l. to Trella J I 
think he’s coming. 

Betsy. No’m, he ain’t. He’s down to the pas- 
ture. 

Elaine. Who? (Coming back to table) What 
in the world is the girl talking about? 

Betsy. I thought you was talkin’ about the hired 
man. (Elaine sits. Betsy works above table.) 

Elaine. I haven’t the honor of any hired man’s 
acquaintance. 

Betsy. He’d just as soon be introduced. 

Elaine. Good heavens! (Trella laughs at 
Betsy’s advances.) 

Betsy. Mary Anne told me to ask you if there 
was anything else you wanted. 

Elaine, (l. of table r.) No, thank you. (Pours 
tea. Elaine thinks she will get rid of her.) You’d 
better go back to the kitchen. I think I smell some- 
thing burning. 

Betsy. Mebbe it’s that cake I’m bakin’ for din- 
ner. (To R. to door slowly.) Ain’t that too bad, 
after all my work? What’s the use of bakin’ and 
bakin’ (Betsy exits r.) 

Trella. Isn’t she a joke? (Looks at food.) 
But I must say these biscuits look good. 

(Lloyd enters l.) 

Lloyd. (Calling off l.) Come on, Billy, here 
they are ! 


28 GOLDEN DAYS 

Trella. (Playfully) You are just in time, but 
not expected. 

(Barclay enters l.) 

Lloyd. ( Back of the table r., goes to organ stool 
r. Sits) Awfully far up here. 

Elaine. We have only three cups. 

Billy. (To c.) I don’t want any. 

Lloyd. Well, I do. Tea’s kind of stimulating, 
isn’t it? 

Billy. (To the girls) See Mary Anne yet? 

Elaine. She was here a while ago. 

Billy. Did you tell her I was coming? 

Elaine. Yes, and she ran away. 

Billy. Ran away? What for? (Elaine shrugs 
as if puzzled.) 

Lloyd. Maybe she heard that necktie coming, 
Billy. (The girls laugh.) 

Billy. Hum ! It will seem a little strange to 
meet her again. (He goes up arid pulls bell-cord l. 
of fireplace. Trella takes her cup of tea and 
crosses to L. of table l. and sits.) 

Elaine. Oh, you really expect to meet her ? You 
meant it? 

Billy. Naturally, of course. Why? Doesn’t 
she want to see me? 

Elaine. (Shrugs her shoulders) She didn’t say. 

Billy. (Walking about at back ) The old house 
looks just the same. There’s the old fireplace and 
the organ. (He works around easily up and down 
c. ad lib.) 

Lloyd. The country kind. Two teeth out and a 
squeak. I’ll bet! (He is sitting on organ stool r.J 

Elaine. (To Billy, laughing sarcastically) 
Where she used to sing “Sweet Genevieve.” 

Trella, (Laughing) No. (Sings) “Where is 


GOLDEN DAYS 


29 

my wand’ring boy to-night? (All loo It at Billy and 
laugh.) 

Billy. Aw, cut it out ! If you want to know 

just what it was (Crosses to c.) It was “In 

the gloaming,” and Mary Anne could sing it, too. 
Elaine. (Coldly) I suppose so! 

Trella. Can she play the ukulele? 

Billy. Couldn’t then. What’s the difference? 
Lloyd. (Down r.) Is she pretty? 

Billy. She used to be — eyes like violets. 

Elaine. (Pettishly) If you want to see the 
violet eyes again, you’ll probably find them in the 
kitchen, gazing into the flour-bin. (Others laugh.) 
Billy. Well, we used to have some good times 

in that old kitchen, making fudge and 

Lloyd. Oh! Fudge! (The girls laugh.) 

Billy. Oh, stop kidding. (Looks about.) It’s 
the real country out here, isn’t it? 

(The general idea of this scene is that the boys and 
girls “kid” Billy so much that he loses his 
nerve and when he meets Mary Anne a little 
later is more than embarrassed.) 

Lloyd. I should say so. Even now I can smell 
the sweet breath of the new-mown potatoes. 

Trella. ( c.i ..) Methinks I hear the mosquitoes 
crowing. 

Billy. Stop your kidding! 

(Betsy opens the door r.) 

Betsy. Yes, sir. 

Billy. Mary Anne at home? 

Betsy. (Lazily) Yes, she’s puttin’ on her new 
dress. 


3 o GOLDEN DAYS 

(Trella and Elaine giggle at this information.) 

Billy. Tell her to come down as soon as she 
can. 

Betsy. Yes, sir. (She exits rJ 
(Billy comes down.) 

Elaine. (Uppishly) All in your honor. 

(Lloyd pays check on table r. and goes l. up.) 
Billy. What? 

Elaine. The change of costume. 

Billy. Absurd ! I wish she’d hurry up. I’m 
late about it now. 

Elaine. “Late?” What are you going to do? 
Billy. Ask her to come to the party to-night. 
Elaine. With us? 

Billy. Of course. 

Elaine. You’re crazy. 

(Trella rises l. Leaves her cup on the table l.) 
Billy. Why so ? 

Elaine. Why, she — she simply doesn’t belong. 
I’m sure I can’t be friends with a girl like that — as 
if she were one of us. 

Billy. “One of us”? I’ll be blessed if I know 
what you’re driving at, Elaine. 

Elaine. Why, she’s waiting on the table here ! 
Billy. (Looks around) Why, what is this? 
Trella. (To c.) They’re running a tea shop — 

Billy. Are they? Well 

Elaine. Don’t be silly. It’s out of the question. 
Trella. She’s a “Jay,” my boy. Wait till you 
see her again. (Trella goes up l. to Lloyd. They 
look at the relics in cabinet l. and laugh.) 


GOLDEN DAYS 


3i 


Billy. Why, she used to be a peach ! 

Elaine. (Delivering an ultimatum) Well, if 
she goes, I don’t. (Rises and goes l.) 

Billy. Aw — wait! Elaine! (Crosses to l.) If 
you think I’d better not, of course I 

Elaine. Why, it’s only for her own good ! The 
poor thing wears the most atrocious dresses. She’d 
feel awfully out of place. 

Billy. Well, if you really think so 

(The door r. opens and Mary Anne appears in her 
new dress, which is a trifle country, though not 
exaggerated, and with the terrible Slissy mil- 
linery creation on her head.) 

Mary Anne. Oh, I thought the others had — I 
didn’t mean to keep you waiting. 

Billy. ( Going to her awkwardly, afraid of the 
others) Hello, Mary Anne! (Shakes hands. Billy 
and Mary Anne stand at c., the others grouped 
down l.J 

Mary Anne. (Shyly) I was afraid you had 
forgotten me — Mr. Barclay. 

Billy. (Stammers) Well, hardly 

Trella. (Aside to Elaine ) Isn’t that dress 
the funniest 

Elaine. (Giggling with her) Sh! 

f B illy looks around at them, annoyed.) 

Billy. (To Mary Anne, embarrassed) Er — 
how is your mother? (He is glad to see Mary Anne 
in spite of himself.) 

Mary Anne. My mother? (Not knowing ex- 
actly what she is saying.) She’s all right— how’s 
yours — and everything? 

Billy. Fine ! 


3 ~ 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Trella. (To Elaine, aside) Did you ever see 
such a hat? (Elaine motions her to he silent.) 

Billy. ( Confused , turns, looking at the others , 
then back to Mary Anne. His embarrassment is 
growing.) The old place looks just the same as 
it always did. 

Mary Anne. Yes, just the same. 

Billy. Do the Westgates still live across the 
street ? 

Mary Anne. (With animation ) Yes. Charlie 
Westgate’s accepted a position with his uncle in 
Bridgeport, Edna’s still here. One of the twins has 

had the measles (Trella giggles. Mary 

Anne gives slight start and looks at her.) But they 
— he — she, I mean, is better now. 

(Trella and Lloyd suppress laughter. Mary Anne 
stares across at them. She is beginning to feel 
that they are guying her.) 

Billy. (Frowns at the others) Seems awfully 
good to see you again, Mary Anne. 

Mary Anne. ( Happily , her mind on Billy 
again) Yes, doesn’t it? 

Billy. What’s become of your friend, Fanny 
Merton ? 

Mary Anne. She’s not here any more. Fanny 
went to New York a year ago. Her father died 
and she and her mother went into the Salvation 
Army. 

(Trella laughs. Mary Anne stops short.) 

Elaine. (With air of restrained amusement) 
We’ll wait for you in the car, Billy! 

Billy. ( Quickly , to ElaineJ I’m coming right 
along. (Goes halfway to door.) Well, good-bye, 


GOLDEN DAYS 


33 

Mary Anne. I’ll see you again before I go back to 
New York — maybe. 

(Dick Stanhope enters the door l. He carries 
Mrs. Kirkland’s small silk hand-hag.) 

Dick. Hello, People ! 

(Trella and Lloyd, Elaine and Billy are all l. 
Dick enters below them.) 

Elaine. Hello, Dick ! What are you doing 
here? 

Trella. I thought I saw you a while ago, Dickie. 

(Dick goes across to Mary AnneJ 

Dick. (To Mary AnneJ Where’s “Auntie 
Kirk”? (Holds up hand-hag.) She left all her 
wealth in the car. 

Mary Anne. (Almost in tears) She’s in back 
with mother. Here, I’ll show you. (She opens the 
door r. and she and Dick exit. The others stare 
after them in amazement. Billy to c.) 

Elaine. (Questioningly) Who’s Auntie Kirk? 
Lloyd. Has he an aunt by that name ? 

Billy. That’s funny ! 

Trella. I never heard of her. 

Elaine. (Crosses to window) Come on, I’ve 
had enough of this place! 

Trella. Did anybody pay the check? 

Lloyd. Yes, I did. 

Trella. Good for you! (They stroll off l.) 
Lloyd. Oh, look ! There’s a hammock ! 

Billy. I say — Dick Stanhope acts very much at 
home round here. I wonder why? 


34 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Elaine. I’m sure I don’t know, and care less. 
Come on, Billy. (They exeunt.) 

(Mrs. Simmonds enters r., followed by Betsy. 
Mrs. Simmonds takes money on table r. and 
goes l. Betsy stops at table rJ 

Mrs. Simmonds. I’m not objectin’ to trade — 
except when it’s trade you aren’t looking for, and 
don’t want ; then it’s upsetting. 

Betsy. Yes, um. 

Mrs. Simmonds. (To l.) I wonder what that 
Jewett girl wanted to come up here for after what 
Miss Slissy told us about her? 

Betsy. What did Miss Slissy tell you? 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Looking out of window) 
I’m not talking to you, Betsy. I was talking to my- 
self. Take away these tea things. 

(Betsy gathers them up slowly, taking the tray from 
table r., under telephone. Mrs. Kirkland 
and Mary Anne enter r. Mrs. Kirk- 
land has her arm about Mary Anne, who is 
crying. Mrs. Kirkland brings Mary Anne 
dozvn r.c.J 

Mrs. Kirkland. Now, Mary Anne, you tell me 
what’s troubling you. Amanda, T found her cry- 
ing ! 

Mary Anne. (Sobbing) It isn’t anything at all. 
Mrs. Simmonds. (Crosses and takes Mary 
Anne in her arms) I think it was that Jewett girl 
cornin’ here that upset her. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Elaine Jewett? 

Mrs. Simmonds. Yes, and Billy Barclay, too. 
Mary Anne. Mumsey, dear, please let’s not talk 
about Billy any more. 


GOLDEN DAYS 


35 


Mrs. Simmonds. Well, Miss Slissy 

Mary Anne. Miss Slissy is the worst gossip in 
the neighborhood. She’ll repeat what you said, 
everywhere. 

(Betsy ivorks over to l. Picks up Trella’s tea- 
cup and returns to table at r.J 

Mrs. Kirkland. Billy Barclay? And Elaine 
Jewett? Mary Anne, what’s all this about Billy 
Barclay? Are you crying on account of him? 
(Mary Anne nods , still sobbing.) What! 

Mary Anne. I was engaged to Billy Barclay 
once. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Why, you never told me. 
When? 

Mary Anne. Last summer. We promised each 
other we wouldn’t tell any one, for a while. 

Mrs. Simmonds. I imagine, since then, he’s got 
it into his head that Mary Anne’s beneath him. 

Mary Anne. No, Mother, I’m sure it isn’t that. 
(To Mrs. Kirkland J Something happened. He 
stopped writing. I don’t know why. And when he 
was here just now (She sobs and goes to or- 

gan R.J 

Mrs. Kirkland. You mean to tell me, Amanda, 
that Billy Barclay has had the effrontery to jilt my 
niece ? 

Mrs. Simmonds. You forget, Maria, he is the 
son of James Barclay now. 

Mrs. Kirkland. I don’t care who he is. I re- 
sent it! (Pause.) But why should he have come 

here if (A step toward Mary Anne behind 

table.) 

Betsy. ( Comes c.) He came to ask Mary Anne 
to go to the party to-night, but the others wouldn’t 
let him. 


36 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Mrs. Simmonds. Wouldn’t let him ? (To Betsy,) 
How do you know ? 

Betsy. I was listenin’. (Looks at door.) And 
I heard ’em talkin’ ! 

Mrs. Simmonds. What did they say? 

Betsy. That Jewett girl said if Mary Anne went 
to the party, she wouldn’t, ’cause she was waiting 
on the table here — and that was a lie, ’cause I was 
doing it myself. 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Boiling) Well, of all things! 

Betsy. And she made fun of Mary Anne’s dress. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Oh, she did, did she. ( Crosses 
to l., looking out of window.) 

Betsy. And of her hat. 

Mrs. Simmonds. That’ll do, Betsy — that’ll do. 

(Betsy picks up tray and exits r.J 

Mary Anne. I realize now how countrified I am. 
Until I saw Elaine I thought my dress was rather 
pretty, but I never did like this Slissy hat. (Takes 
it off and holds it at arms length.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Crosses r. to Mary Anne. 
Takes hat.) Miss Slissy should get twenty years 
for making that monstrosity. ( Throws hat up stage , 
points to Mary Anne’s sash.) And take that “cur- 
few shall not ring to-night” thing from ’round your 
waist. (Catches end of sash and Mary Anne spins 
as it unwinds.) 

Mary Anne. Aunty, it’s silly, I know, but what 
hurt me most was I knew they were laughing at me. 
(She hursts into tears again in Mrs. Kirkland’s 
arms.) 

Mrs, Kirkland. So Billy Barclay came to ask 
you to go to the party and then changed his mind 
because they twitted him, eh? 


GOLDEN DAYS 3 7 

Mary Anne. I couldn’t go now, Auntie — I 
wouldn’t go ! 

Mrs. Kirkland. My dear, you imagine you care 
for Billy Barclay just because you’ve never seen 
anyone else. Well, there’s no reason why you can’t 
have him if you want him. 

(Betsy enters r.) 

Betsy. That foreign French girl wants to know — 

Mrs. Kirkland. Foreign (Mrs. Kirk- 

land is amused at Betsy at first. Then goes c.) 
You tell that “foreign French girl” to come here at 
once. Wait — is that nice gentleman who gave you 
the dollar still playing with the dog in the back 
yard? 

Betsy. Yessum. It was two dollars. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Tell him to come. 

Betsy. Yes, ’um. ( She exits off r.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. ( c .) I’ll see about this jilting 
business. 

Mary Anne. Aunty, what are you going to do? 

Mrs. Kirkland. I’m going back to New York, 
and you’re going with me. 

Mary Anne. (Astounded) Me!! 

Mrs. Kirkland. You. 

Mrs. Simmonds. But, Maria, you said you were 
all run down and needed a rest. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Did I? Well, I guess I was 
mistaken — what I need is excitement. (Crosses 
down to L.c.) 

Mary Anne. What do you mean, Aunty? 

Mrs. Kirkland. The excitement of backing you 
against Elaine Jewett and seeing which will come 
out ahead. 


(Felice enters rJ 


38 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Mary Anne. Why, Aunty! 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Up c.) Yes, and we’ll have 
one good fling at them before we go. (Dick en- 
ters r.J Felice! Don’t unpack! We are going 
away the first thing in the morning. 

Felice. Oui, Madame! 

Mary Anne. But I don’t understand. 

Dick. (To c.) Want me? 

Mrs. Kirkland. Yes. Dickie, come here. 
You’re going to the party at the hotel to-night. 

Dick. I know I am. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Yes. But what you don’t know 
is, you’re going to take Mary Anne and me. 

Dick. (Grins) Fine! 

Mary Anne. But, Aunty (Looking at her 

dress.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. I’ll fix that. (To DickJ 
What time is it? 

Dick. (Looks at his watch) Four o’clock. 

WARN CURTAIN . 

Mrs. Kirkland. How long would it take a care- 
ful driver to bring a motor car full of gowns down 
here from the city? 

Mary Anne. (Gasps) Oh! 

Dick. (Calmly) About three hours. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Get Madame Blanche on the 
long distance, like a good boy. The number is 
Plaza 3800. 

Dick. Sure. (He goes across room and takes 
the phone which stands on the table R. at wall.) 

Mrs. Kirkland, (c.) I’ll give Elaine Jewett 
something to talk about. (Contemptuously) Wait- 
ing on the table, indeed! 

Mary Anne. (To c.) Aunty ! 

Mrs. Kirkland. ( Arms about Mary AnneJ 
Wait till she sees you at the party to-night on the 


GOLDEN DAYS 


39 

arm of Dickie Stanhope. Dickie, you make love 
to Mary Anne all you know how. 

Dick. (At phone , grinning) Fine! 

Mrs. Kirkland. Violent love! 

Dick. (With gusto ) I get you ! 

Mary Anne. ( Embarrassed J Oh, Aunty! 

Mrs. Kirkland. We’ll make Billy Barclay so 
jealous he’ll want to fight; and Elaine Jewett so 
envious she’ll want to scream. (Picks up chair and 
puts it c. with a bang.) 

Dick. (In phone) Toll operator. I want to get 
3800 Plaza, New York City. 

(The following scene between Mrs. Kirkland and 
Felice is spoken in rapid French, both gesticu- 
lating wildly with their hands. Mrs. Kirk- 
land seats Mary Anne between them. The 
more exaggerated the gestures, the more Mary 
Anne's bewilderment is funny as she looks 
from one to the other.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. Felice! Regardes! 

Felice. (Coming down) Oui, Madam. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Je desire que vous vous occu- 
pies exclusivement de la toilette de Mademoiselle. 
Nous choiserons les robe les plus jolies et les plus 
chic, sans nous occuper du prix. 

Felice. Ah/ Mademoiselle en crepe de chine 
blanc avec rien qu’un collier de perles; ses cheveux 
coiffes d la Rosaire. Ah, Mademoiselle, elle serait 
tout a fait delicieuse. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Ah, oui! Je vais commander 
une dousaine de combinaisons et nous verrons ce 
qui lui ira le mieux; du blanc et rose, que est tou- 
jours joli, ou peutetre, du bleu et blanc orne de rose. 

Felice. Ah, oui, oui ! 


40 


GOLDEN DAYS 


(Mary Anne sits listening , entranced, and Mrs. 
Simmonds in open-mouthed amazement. Fi- 
nally Mrs. Simmonds can stand it no longer 
and breaks in.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Down l. of table l.) Good 
heavens, Maria, what are you jabberin’ about? 

RING. 

Dick. (At the phone) Is this 3800 Plaza? 

Mrs. Simmonds. And a body not understandin’ 
a word you’re sayin’. I declare I never heard such 
goin’s on in my life. 

(Mrs. Kirkland touches Mary Anne’s hair, pay- 
ing no attention to her sister , continuing her 
conversation with Felice J 

Mrs. Kirkland. Coiffee a la Rosaire? Je ne 
suis pas sure si ca me plairait. Sa figure est un pen 
legere, peutetre quelque chose de plus simple irait 
mieux. 

(Felice, in a loud voice, argues to the contrary. 
Dick is talking into the phone. Mrs. Kirk- 
land answers Felice between phrases, and 
amid this babble of French and English the cur- 
tain descends.) 

CURTAIN 

(Translation of End of Act I.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. Felice. 

Felice. Yes, Madame. 

Mrs. Kirkland. I want you to take full charge 
of this young lady’s toilette. We shall select the 
prettiest and most stylish dresses without regard to 
price. 


GOLDEN DAYS 


41 

Felice. (In ecstacy at the thought) Ah! Made- 
moiselle in white crepe de chine, with just a neck- 
lace of pearls ; her hair, a la Rosaire. Ah, Madame, 
she would be exquisite ! 

Mrs. Kirkland. Ah, yes. I shall order a dozen 
combinations and we shall see which is most becom- 
ing, white and rose, which is always pretty, or per- 
haps white and blue with a touch of rose. 

Felice. Ah, yes, yes! 

(Mary Anne sits listening, entranced, and Mrs. 
Simmonds in open-mouth amazement. Finally 
she can stand it no longer and breaks in.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Down l. of table l.) Good 
heavens, Maria, what are you jabberin’ about? 

RING. 

Dick. (At the phone) Is this 3800 Plaza? 

Mrs. Simmonds. And a body not understand^’ 
a word you’re sayin* ! I declare I never heard such 
goin’s on in my life. 

(Mrs. Kirkland touches Mary Anne’s hair, paying 
no attention to her sister, continuing her con- 
versation with Felice.,) 

Mrs. Kirkland. Coiffure a la Rosaire. I am 
not sure whether that will please me. Her figure is 
a little delicate, perhaps something more simple 
would be better. 

(Felice, in loud voice, argues to the contrary. Dick 
is talking into the phone. Mrs. Kirkland an- 
swers Felice between phrases, and amid this 
babble of French and English the curtain de- 
scends.) 


CURTAIN 


ACT II 


Scene: A parlor in the new hotel at Farmdale. 
The room is done in light panels in baby blue 
and pink with deeper shades of pink draperies . 
A blue carpet, c. arch zmth one step and plat- 
form leads both r. and l. Backing this hallway 
is a stained window c . and flower-box with 
flowers and ferns. On either side of the arch 
are small fancy writing-desks with chairs and 
desk lamps. R.c. obliqued arch leads to hotel 
office, l.c. obliqued arch leads to ballroom. At 
r.c. and l.c. small settees of same pattern stand 
obliqued facing c. Fancy table r.i. against 
wall with large bronze ornaments. Smaller 
table against wall l.i. with smaller ornament. 
No other furniture is needed. Wall brackets 
and chandelier lighted throughout. 

There is music and dancing in the room l. 

Time: It is about nine o’clock of the same evening 
as Act I. 

The curtain rises to the music of a waltz 
played by the orchestra in the room off l. 

Note. — Music must be very soft all through 
act. When the curtain is well up it stops. 

Annabelle Larsh and Frank Montgom- 
ery cross r. to l. Trella Webb and Lloyd 
Henderson enter l. They have been dancing 
and she is laughing and exhilarated. 

They are followed by Patty Ellison and 
Teddy Farnum and Charles Mason. Exit 
l. Annabelle and Frank. 

42 


GOLDEN DAYS 


43 

The laughter dies away and Trella is heard 
speaking to Lloyd. 

Lloyd. (Makes for divan at r.) Let’s all take 
a rest. I’m tired. 

Trella. (Back of divan r.) Good heavens, 
Lloyd, you’re too lazy to dance, and I think you 
grow worse instead of better. 

Lloyd. (Seated r.J It was the orchestra’s fault. 
The leader got all mixed up. (Patty and Teddy 
are at lJ 

Trella. Nonsense, it was just a simple glide. 

Lloyd. Glide nothing ! 

Mason. (Who stutters slightly at times) You 
g-g-go and ask that leader. He’ll set you right. 

Lloyd. Dancing makes me tired, anyhow. 

Trella. Beware! That tiredness is becoming 
chronic ! 

Teddy. You just slip into it, old man. Here, let 
me show you. (Illustrates. Mason works to Patty, 
hack of divan.) 

Patty. Teddy Bear, get back in your cage. You 
don’t know how to do it yourself. 

Teddy. (Boyishly) I do so. 

Trella. (Laughing) Teddy, your dancing is 
original, to say the least. (Sits by Lloyd on divan 

R.J 

Teddy. (Bows) Oh, thanks. I always was an 
original cuss. (To Lloyd ) Keep on plugging, old 
man . . . That’s how I got my start. 

Mason. (To c.) G-give us a cigarette, Ted. 

Teddy. (Producing handsome cigarette-case) 
I’ll tell you what I will do. I’ll take you out and 
introduce you to the girl at the cigar-stand and you 
can buy some cigarettes. ( Gives him one.) 

Trella. Oh, what a fetching cigarette-case! 
Beautiful ! 


44 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Lloyd. (On settee r.) You know, it’s a funny 
thing, but his brother Bob has got one just like that ! 

Teddy. (Goes up stage — to Lloyd) You mind 
your own business. 

Patty. Oh, stop squabbling! Where’s Elaine? 

Mason. Out on the porch with Billy. 

Patty. What’s the matter with those two ? 

Teddy. They seem to be sparring about some- 
thing. (Boys go up stage , smoking.) 

Trella. (As Patty comes to divan) Lloyd, do 
get up. ^ 

Lloyd. (Rises, Patty taking his seat.) Excuse 
me, but I was up awfully late last night. ( Goes up 
c. to boys , then down to settee l.) 

Patty. (To Trella) Is Mrs. Jewett coming 
over to-night? 

Trella. No, she’s among those absent, for a won- 
der ! 

(Lloyd, with a sigh of contentment, sprawls on 
divan at l.) 

Patty. (To Trella) Mrs. Jewett makes a 
goose of herself over Billy — I should think Elaine 
would be ashamed of it. 

(Boys work down, casually.) 

Trella. You infant! Elaine doesn’t object in 
the least to being thrown in that direction. All she 
thinks of is how to inveigle a little platinum and 
diamond affair from Billy to wear on number three, 
left. 

Patty. Well, let’s hope she gets it. 

Trella. Oh, she will! Don’t worry. Elaine 
wins everything she plays for, especially when 
backed up by her dear mama! 


GOLDEN DAYS 


AS 


(Teddy and Mason work down. Miss Slissy en- 
ters c. She is dressed in a semi-evening gown 
at once amateurish and outre and a hat which 
corresponds.) 

Miss Slissy. (c. Simpering) Oh, good eve- 
ning. (Fans nervously.) 

Boys. Ah ! 

(Miss Slissy accepts their ecstatic exclamations as 
genuine.) 

Trella. (Amused) Look who’s here! 

(The boys gather round in a merry mood. Patty 
works above to l. Annabelle and Frank 
pass from l. to r., where they pause to regard 
Miss Slissy.) 

Miss Slissy. I’m Miss Slissy, milliner and 
dressmaker here. I was looking for Miss Jewett — 
Trella. She’s somewhere about. 

(Patty goes to l. of Teddy . ) 

Miss Slissy. Is she? Thanks. (Sizing up the 
men.) You’re having a lovely party, ain’t you? 

Trella (Stares at her, amused.) Almost. (Hides 
smirk.) 

Miss Slissy. (Over to Trella) I do love to 
see the young folks enjoy themselves. (To Teddy) 
You are enjoying it, I suppose? 

Teddy. (With exaggerated courtesy) I wasn’t, 
but I am now. 

Miss Slissy. I love parties, passionately. ( Fans.) 
Trella. (Laughing) Really? 


46 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Miss Slissy. Oh, yes. Everyone says I’m al- 
ways the life of every party I go to. 

Lloyd. (Stands up to enjoy Miss Slissy's con- 
versation ) Huh ! 

Trella. (To others) She must be. Even Lloyd 
is coming to life! (Laughs almost in Miss Slissy’s 
face.) 

Miss Slissy. I didn’t exactly expect to be com- 
ing to this one, or I’d be more decoletty, and with- 
out a hat. (Fusses with her hat. Trella notices 
it.) 

Trella. Oh! but that’s a lovely hat you’re wear- 
ing! 

(Patty goes l.c. with a sign to Trella not to guy 
Miss Slissy. ,) 

Miss Slissy. (Pleased) Do you care for it? 

Trella. I never saw anything like it. 

Patty. (Sorry for Miss Slissy J I think the 
hat’s quite pretty and simple. 

Trella. ( Innocently ) It’s simple, all right. 

Miss Slissy. It’s my own design. I deal in noth- 
ing but the most exclusive styles. 

Teddy. ( With most seriousness) Now, don’t 
you copy it, Trella! 

Miss Slissy. It won’t come to over four dollars 
if one of you would like me to copy it. 

Teddy. Profiteer! 

Miss Slissy. (Sits, touches her hat) Look at 
that ornament. Ain’t that saucy? It doesn’t re- 
quire another thing, does it? 

Teddy. (Standing near Miss Slissy, pretends to 
regard hat critically ) I would suggest a large pine- 
apple peeping from the brim. 

Patty. (Over to Teddy,) Teddy, shut up. 

(Patty goes l. Lloyd follows. Patty sits l.) 


GOLDEN DAYS 


47 


Miss Slissy. I do work for the very best people 
in town, and summer visitors, too. Yes, indeed ! I 
hope to start to-morrow for Miss Elaine Jewett. 
(To TrellaJ My place is on Main Street, right 
next to the Post Office. Come in and see me some 
time. 

Trella. (Giggling) I surely will. (Elaine 
and Barclay enter c. Trella arises.) Here's Miss 
Jewett now. 

(Egbert Moon enters l., meets Frank and Anna- 
belle c. Pantomime conversation as they all 
exit l.J 

Miss Slissy. (Rises — to c.) How de do, Miss 
Jewett? 

Elaine. ( Frowning , recognising her) Oh, Miss 
Slissy ! What do you mean by coming here? 

Miss Slissy. (Slightly apologetic) Well, I 
thought I’d drop around to-night and find out what 
time you wanted me to come to-morrow to do that 
plain sewin’. 

(Mason over to l. near l.u. entrance.) 

Elaine. Come right after breakfast. 

Miss Slissy. About half-past six? (0 nines 
laugh.) 

MUSIC No. 2 (Fox Trot) 

Elaine. Good gracious! Half past eleven. 
(Crosses to r.J 

Miss Slissy. Land sakes, I’m ready for dinner 
by that time. 

(Music starts. Elaine goes r. behind Trella.J 

Lloyd. Is this mine, Pat? (Goes l. to Patty 
and they exit into ballroom.) 


48 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Miss Slissy. Isn’t that a lovely tune they’re 
playing? (Comes to Trella r.c. Teddy to c.j 

Trella. Do you dance, Miss Slissy? 

Miss Slissy. Mercy, I should say so! I was up 
to Bridgeport three weeks one winter and took the 
whole course. 

Trella. (Takes Teddy by the hand and drazvs 
him toward Miss Slissy.) Teddy! Miss Slissy 
dances. 

Teddy. Does she? That’s fine. It’s great exer- 
cise! Come on. this is where you dance with the 
Teddy Bear. (Drags Trella by the hand to l.u. 
entrance.) 

Miss Slissy. (Laughing) Teddy Bear? He 
looks more grass-hopperish to me. 

Teddy. (Laughing) Thanks awfully. 

Mason. (Crosses to Trella and TeddyJ Wait 
a minute, Trella. You promised m-m-me a dance. 
I thought it was 

Trella. You’re always too late, Charley. Why 
so backward? 

Teddy. She was up to Bridgeport one winter and 
took the whole course. (Shoves Mason toward 
Miss Slissy, turns and leads Trella off l. She is 
laughing . Mason, left standing, facing Miss Slissy, 
looks at her in consternation , then turns and hurries 
off l. after Teddy. Calling) 

Mason. Hey! Wait a minute! What was that 
you s-s-said? I didn’t hear the last part of it. (Etc.) 

Miss Slissy. Too bad he’s so bashful! (Fol- 
lows over to l., then turns to Billy and Elaine up 
c.) Howdy do, Billy? 

Billy. (Hastily) dood evening, Miss Slissy. 
I’m not dancing just now. 

(Elaine goes doivn to divan r. and Billy follows.) 


GOLDEN DAYS 


49 


Miss Slissy. Too bad! Tm a wonderful part- 
ner. ( Follows him as he goes to Elaine.) I ain’t 
seen you down here since last summer, Billy. 

Billy. ( Shortly, through with her ) Maybe not. 
(Turns to Elaine.) 

Miss Slissy. Not since that dance at Hillsbys, 
when you and Mary Anne 

Billy. (To Miss Slissy,) Excuse me, please. 
(To Elaine, lowering his voice) Don’t you want 
to dance? 

Elaine. (Looks toward Miss Slissy and speaks 
with veiled sarcasm) Every one in Farmdale seem 
to know you and your history quite well. 

Miss Slissy. (Down c.) Lord, I’ve known 
Billy Barclay ever since he was knee high to a duck 
and had the habit of sucking his thumb. I remem- 
ber once, when he was about ten years old 

Billy. ( Annoyed ) Excuse me, Miss Slissy, but 
I’m engaged just now 

Miss Slissy. (Goes toward l.) Well, ain’t you 
uppety! I wondqr if they’d -mind if I sat and 
watched ’em for a spell. (Turns once more.) Do 
you know, this is the swellest affair we’ve had here 
since Theda Bara maffe her personal appearance. 
(Exits L. rather grandly.) 

Billy. (To ElaineJ Aw— come on, Elaine. 

Why won’t you ? 

Elaine. Because I don’t wish to dance. 

WATCH Music to Stop. 

Billy. Why not? 

Elaine. Why should I? I’m certain you’d pre- 
fer to keep on talking about that little country girl 
in the tea-shop. 

Billy. (Beside Elaine ) I was merely trying to 
explain 

Elaine. I never asked you to explain. 


50 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Billy. You acted as though you expected it. 
You led me on to talk about her. 

Elaine. Because I saw it was useless for me to 
try to entertain you when your thoughts were some- 
where else. 

Billy. Now, Elaine, you know I’ve hardly left 
your side all evening. 

Elaine. Oh, dear, don't allow me to detain you. 
Em certain you’d rather be strolling up a country 
road not far away — the road to her house. 

Billy. I’ve known Mary Anne almost ever since 
she was born. 

Elaine. Yes, so I’ve heard. 

Billy. You’d like her, too, if you knew her well. 

Elaine. Like her? That ordinary little thing? 
Why, she doesn’t even know how to dress. 

Billy. Maybe she doesn’t. But I always 
thought 

Elaine. Of course she’s not to blame. What can 
you expect of a girl who lives the year round in a 
town like this? 

Billy. Let’s change the subject, Elaine — please. 

(Trella enters l., followed by Mason, Patty,, 
Edgar, Lloyd and Annabelle. Teddy crosses 
r. and exits out to office.) 

Trella. ( Goes over to Elaine and Billy c . ) 
You two people are having a lovely party, aren’t 
you? You danced the last one on the porch and 
this one in the parlor. 

Elaine. I’m tired, Trella. 

Lloyd. So am I. My legs feel overworked from 
all that dancing. 

Trella. (To ElaineJ It’s hardly fair to monop- 
olize Billy the entire evening. 

Lloyd. (Eagerly) If you girls want to duck 


GOLDEN DAYS 51 

dancing with us beginners, I’d just as lief sit out 
the rest of the dances. (Sits at l.) 

Trella. Can’t some one bring Lloyd a hammock, 
so he can dream the happy hours away? 

Patty. (On sofa l., kindly to Lloyd) Lloyd, 
you danced beautifully. You stepped on my toe 
only twice. 

Trella. (Over her shoulder) I lost count. (At 
c.) Jdas anybody seen Dickie Stanhope? 

Mason. (At r.) N-n-not I. 

Annabelle. I promised him a dance, I remem- 
ber. 

Edgar. He’s a last-minute chap, always was. 

Elaine. It’s past ten o’clock. He’s true to his 
reputation. 

Billy. (At far r.) I wonder (With sud- 

den suspicion) Say, I’ve got a hunch he’ll pass up 
this dance entirely. 

Trella. ("To Billy) Don’t! Good partners are 
scarce enough already. 

Teddy. (Ecstatically, dashing in at c.) Oh, boy! 
Oh, boy! 

(Patty rises. Trella down l. of divan at r.) 

Billy. What’s the excitement? 

Teddy. Talk about your stunning baby-dolls! 
Wait till you see the queen Dickie Stanhope’s got in 
tow. 

Elaine. Who is she? 

Teddy. I don’t know, but she’s a pippin’. Some 
Jane ! Ah, there, my little color-scheme ! 

Patty. (Goes to him) Teddy Farnum, I’m sur- 
prised at you. 

Trella. So pretty as all that? 

Teddy. Pretty? She’s wonderful! 

Patty. Teddy! 

Teddy. Well, Pat, she is. I’m dizzy! 


52 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Elaine. Who can it be? 

Lloyd. (Rising) Where is she? 

Trella. (Speaking of Lloyd ) Oh, look, he’s 
awake ! 

Teddy. He just led her in from his car. Talk 
about Cinderella at the ball. 

(Patty moves far l. Dick Stanhope c. from r. 
enters with Mary Anne upon his arm. dick 
is immaculate in evening dress and Mary Anne 
the vision of loveliness, in a white evening dress 
of exquisite material and design. She zvears a 
light evening wrap also very costly. She is 
followed by Felice. The whole thing has been 
staged and arranged by Mrs. Kirkland. Fe- 
lice remains up stage.) 

Dick. (Grinning) Hello, people! Are we late? 
Better that than never. (Elaine rises. Patty 
works far L.j You all know Miss Simmonds, I’m 
sure — no, I’m mistaken. There are those who 
haven’t had the pleasure. (Introducing ) Miss El- 
lison, Mr. Mason, Miss Marion Simmonds of this 
city. (To Mary Anne) You know all the others, 
and Mr. Barclay, of course! 

Mary Anne. fc..Rj Oh, yes! How do you do? 

Billy, (^r.c. Stunned) Mary Anne! 

Dick. ( c.) Sounds the same only the spelling 
is different. 

Elaine. ( r. at corner settee ) Why — why 

Trella. ^r. of Elaine, coming to her rescue) 
It’s the little girl we met this afternoon. 

Dick. Yes, Miss Simmonds is Mrs. Kirkland’s 
niece. I brought “Aunty Kirk” down this afternoon. 

Elaine. (A step tozvard c.) Mrs. Drexel Kirk- 
land? 

Dick. Yes. She isn’t really my aunt, you know. 
I just adopted her. But she’s Marion’s aunt, and — 


GOLDEN DAYS 


53 


Trella. (Effusively. Going over to Mary 
Anne,) Why, how do you do? (Shakes hands 
with her.) 

READY Music No. 3. 
Mary Anne. (Szveetly) I'm quite well, thank 
you. (She passes onto Patty l.) How do you do? 

(Trella goes back to Elaine. Mason works 
around group L.) 

Patty. (Sweetly) Strange we haven’t met be- 
fore. I know Mrs. Kirkland very well. 

(Patty and Mary Anne take to each other instinct- 
ively. Billy tries to go to Mary Anne. Dick 
stops him and takes him r. Mason and Lloyd 
crowd around Mary Anne l. Teddy can't 
get in.) 

Lloyd. (To Mary AnneJ Haven’t you got a 
dance-card? I’ll run and get you one. 

Dick. (To Billy ) Sorry to be late, but we were 
chatting up at Mrs. Simmonds’. How’s everything 
going? 

Billy. (Still dazed and almost incoherent) Yes, 
of course — that is — great! 

Dick. (Coolly) Good news! Marion expects to 
spend the winter in New York with Aunty Kirk. 
We’ll take in a lot of dances then. This will do for 
a starter. 

(Teddy has been in considerable of a fidget, wishing 
to be introduced. Now breaks forth.) 

Teddy. (To DiCKj Say, haven’t you forgotten 
to introduce a certain party ? 


54 GOLDEN DAYS 

(Trella works to r. and back of settee.) 

Dick. I beg your pardon, Teddy, so I have. (To 
Mary Anne) Oh, Marion, this is Mr. Teddy Far- 
num — our Teddy Bear. (All the boys laugh.) 

Mary Anne. (Shaking hands with Teddy) How 
do you do? 

MUSIC starts. No. 3. ( One Step.) 

Teddy. I’m glad to know you, Miss Simmonds. 
There are many things I would like to discuss with 
you. May I have several dances? (He is jostled 
aside by other boys.) 

Dick. (Breaks in) Do you care to dance this 
one, Marion? 


(Teddy goes up stage.) 

Mary Anne. (To c. Trying hard to keep in 
the character she is assuming.) I’d love to. Felice ! 

(Teddy over to Patty l.) 

Felice. (Coming down) Oui, Mademoiselle. 
(Removes Mary Anne's cloak.) 

Mary Anne. (In a very casual French to Felice ) 
Aimez-vous regarder les danseurs? (Do you care 
to watch the dancers ?) 

Felice. Ah, mademoiselle, je l’aimerais bien. (I 
should like it very much.) 

Mary Anne. Alors, asseyez vous dans la salle du 
bal. Peutetre j’aurais besoin du manteau, s’il ferait 
froid. (Take a seat in the ballroom-. I may want 
the cloak if it gets cold.) 

Felice. (Quickly) Merci, Mademoiselle ! 

Mary Anne. (Sigh of relief that she has said 
the French correctly ) Are you ready ? 

Dick. (Offering his arm) You bet. (Crosses 


GOLDEN DAYS 


55 


to Mary Anne. To the other hoys.) The supper 
dance is mine, boys, but I won’t be stingy ; you may 
help yourselves to one or two of the others. 

(Mary Anne and Dick exit lJ 

Mary Anne. (Outside) Good evening, Miss 
Slissy. 

(Enter Miss Slissy l., flustered. Billy crosses 
to entrance l. Mason up to l. Teddy joins 
Lloyd.J 

Miss Slissy. (Looking after Mary Anne,) 
Dear me, I never had such a funny feelin’ in all my 
life. (To others) Was that or was that not Mary 
Anne Simmonds? 

Teddy. Yes — that’s her name. 

Miss Slissy. Well, I’ve heard tell of miracles, 
but this is the first time I ever seen on. (She moves 
up stage , a little unsteady.) I’ll come to-morrow to 
Mary Anne, Miss Jewett — I mean I’ll come to Miss 

Jewett to-morrow, Mary Anne Land sakes! 

what am I talking about? (She turns and looks l. 
a little dazed, then exits c. and R. All laugh. 
Teddy up stage l.) 

Trella. fR.c.J I can’t blame her much! It’s 
the way / feel. 

Patty. I don’t see what all the excitement’s 
about. I think Miss Simmonds is lovely. 

Teddy. (Down c.) Ah! You uphold me? 

Patty. I absolutely do. 

Billy. (Up c.) She’s wonderful ! (Work r.c.) 

Elaine. (Angry) It was certainly well staged. 
(Crosses to Lloyd.J This is ours, I think, Lloyd. 

Lloyd. So it is. (They exeunt l.J 


56 GOLDEN DAYS 

Trella. (Going to l. to Mason ) Talk about a 
transformation ! 

Patty. (Crosses to Billy c.) Come on, Billy, 
I’ve been dying to dance with you. 

Billy. (Dazed) Excuse me, Patty, will you? 
Take me on the next one. 

Patty. Crushed again. 

Teddy. (Takes Patty's arm) Never mind, little 
one, you have me to fall back on. 

(Billy goes rJ 

Patty. Oh, well, but one hates to dance with 
one’s fiance all the evening. (Exeunt l.) 

Teddy. That’s what fiances are for. 

(Billy looks off l. sullenly , then goes to r. Mrs. 
Kirkland enters from the c. and r. She goes 
L. and watches the dancers.) 

Billy. Why, good evening, Mrs. Kirkland. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Pleasantly, over her shoul- 
der, still facing ballroom) Oh, hello, Billy Barclay! 
How do you do? Aren’t you dancing? 

Billy. Not this one. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Oh! Did your father come 
down, Billy? (She turns and watches the dancers 
again. Billy thinks a moment, then resolves to* get 
in her good graces.) 

Billy. Yes. He and mother. There’s a whist 
party on upstairs. ( Crosses to her at l.c.) Mrs. 
Kirkland 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Turning a little) Yes? 

Billy. I never knew that Mary Anne Simmonds 
was your niece. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Oh, dear, yes! 




Golden Days” See page 54 









GOLDEN DAYS 


57 

Billy. (Looking l.) She — she looks awfully 
pretty to-night. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Innocently) Yes, doesn’t she? 

WATCH Ready to Stop. 

Billy. I — never saw her* dressed like that be- 
fore. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Nods carelessly \ She’s such 
a quiet little thing it’s seldom we can get her to 
dress. 

Billy. We were awfully good friends once. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Indeed! She’s a dear little 
girl. The only niece I have. (Looking l.) Isn’t 
“Dickie” Stanhope an excellent dancer? 

Billy. (Not looking) Yes. 

Mrs. Kirkland. What a charming picture they 
make together ! 

Billy. (Looking l.) Dick Stanhope acts as if 
he owned her. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Nice boy, “Dickie.” 

Billy. It’s terribly warm in here. 

Mrs. Kirkland. It has been sultry to-day for 
June. Will you take me in? I don’t wish to dance ; 
just watch them. 

MUSIC stop No. 3. 

Billy. Surely. 

APPLAUSE. 

(Billy moves over l. and exits with Mrs. Kirk- 
land. Teddy and Patty enter c. from the 
dance. There is applause and the dance con- 
tinues.) 

Teddy. (To PattyJ Phew! — that was a swift 
one. 

Patty. You’ll have to go into training again, 
Teddy. 

Teddy. I think I will soon. I’m not going to 
wait for my number to be drawn. 


58 GOLDEN DAYS 

Patty. Oh! Teddy, you don’t seriously think 
you will have to 

No. 3 MUSIC Continues. 

Teddy. There, don’t worry. I’m not going to- 
night. Not till I’ve had at least once dance with 
that pretty Miss Simmonds, anyhow. (They sit.) 

Patty. If it weren’t that I like her so much, I’d 
be jealous, Teddy Farnum. 

Teddy. She is awful nice! Say, Patty, did you 
notice Elaine to-night when she saw Marion Sim- 
nionds ? 

Patty. No. What happened? 

Teddy. (Boyishly dramatic) She looked as if 
she’d been struck by lightning. And Billy Barclay, 
too. There’s trouble brewing. (Rises to c.) 

Patty. I shouldn’t be surprised if that were the 
girl Billy used to go round with here! 

WATCH Music No. 3. 

Teddy. (Excited) I’ll bet that's it! (Looking 
off l.) Look! There’s Billy now. Yes, and look 
at him. He’s going this way. (He opens and shuts 
his hand convulsively, in imitation of Billy.) De- 
noting anger and peevishness ! 

Patty. (Runs up to Teddy. Looks off l.) Yes, 
he’s watching Marion and Dickie Stanhope. 

Teddy. Gee, there’s going to be something doing, 
all right. (To c.) 

STOP Music No. 3. 

Patty. ( Breathlessly ) What ? 

Teddy. A fracas. 

Patty. What ? 

Teddy. A fracas. A hors de combat. (Enlight- 
ening her ignorance ) Oh, a fight ! 

Patty. You mean (Toward Teddy) — be- 

tween Dickie and Billy? 

Teddy. Of course. 


GOLDEN DAYS 


59 

Patty. (Alarmed) Oh, wouldn’t that be ter- 
rible ! 

Teddy. (Importantly) I’ll stop them. 

Patty. Do, Teddy. Don’t let them fight. 

Teddy. All right. I might as well begin training 
now as at Yaphank. 

(Mrs. Kirkland enters l.) 

Patty. Oh, Teddy, to think of your being a sol- 
dier! (She and Teddy start r.J 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Extending her hands) Why, 
isn’t that you, my dear Patty ? 

Patty. (Runs hack) Oh, hello, Mrs. Kirkland ! 
What a lovely surprise ! 

Teddy. (Returns) Gee, Mrs. Kirkland, this is 
great, meeting you ! 

Mrs. Kirkland. Allow me to return the compi- 
ment. 

Patty. We didn’t know you were coming here 
to-night. 

Mrs. Kirkland. I didn’t know it myself until 
this afternoon. I just dropped in to chaperone the 
party for a while. Are you having a pleasant time? 

Teddy. Fine. We were on our way to investi- 
gate some fruit punch in the private dining room. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Then trot right along. 

Patty. We’ll bring you some if it’s any good. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Thank you. (Teddy and 
Patty exit at r. Mary Anne" enters l. quickly.) 
Well, dear? 

Mary Anne. (Agitatedly) When Billy looked 
at me just now, my heart sort of tried to turn over. 
Oh, Auntie, suppose I shouldn’t be able to keep it 
up? 

Mrs. Kirkland. Good gracious, child. You 
must keep it up now , 


60 GOLDEN DAYS 

Mary Anne. (Bracing up) I know I must — 
and I will. 

Mrs. Kirkland. And remember, you are going 
to win. (Crosses to r. She looks l.) Be careful. 
Here he comes. 

(Mary Anne to divan r., spreading skirts elabor- 
ately and assuming nonchalant pose.) 

Billy. (Enters L.j Ah, Mary Anne! (Sees 
Dick has followed him in and is annoyed.) 

(Mrs. Kirkland addresses Mary Anne for Billy's 
benefit.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. Did you enjoy the dance, dear? 

Mary Anne. Oh, it was lovely ! 

Dick. (To Mrs. Kirkland,) She's a corking 
dancer. 

Mary Anne. (Lightly) Thank you. It’s been 
so long since I danced I was almost afraid I had 
forgotten how. 

Billy. (Stepping forward) May I have the 
next one, Mary Anne? 

Mary Anne. Well, I 

Dick. Now, Marion, don’t tire yourself. If 
you’ve been going slow on dancing, you know, 
why 

Mrs. Kirkland. (To DickJ But she and Billy 
are old acquaintances, it seems, so I presume he has 
a claim on her. (To Mary Anne,) My dear, why 
have you never once mentioned that you knew Billy 
Barclay? (Billy is chagrined at this disclosure.) 

Mary Anne. ( Assumed innocence ) Why — why 
— it was such a long time ago, it never entered my 
head. 


GOLDEN DAYS 61 

(Mrs. Kirkland looks around. Dick looks at 
Mary Anne admiringly.) 

Dick. (Then to Billy, condescendingly) Well, 
take good care of her for me, old man, won't you? 

Billy. I’ll try. ( Goes to divan where Mary 
Anne is sitting.) 

Dick. Thanks. (To Mrs. Kirkland,) Shall 
we go in, Auntie Kirk ? 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Crosses to l. exit) Of course. 
Dick. (Turns back a moment) Be careful, 
Marion. Don’t sit in a draft or anything! 

Mary Anne. No, I won’t. 

(Mrs. Kirkland and Dick start for lJ 

Dick. You wouldn’t like Felice to bring in your 
wrap ? No, allow me to bring it. 

Mary Anne. (Sweetly) Not just now, Dick. 

( Exit Dick and Mrs. Kirkland. Billy looks 
after Dick, annoyed.) 

Billy. Has he really gone? (Sits beside Mary 
AnneJ I didn’t expect to see you so soon again, 
Mary Anne. 

Mary Anne. Didn’t you? 

Billy. No. ( Sits with her.) I can hardly real- 
ize it is you. 

Mary Anne. Oh, but it is, Mr. Barclay. 

Billy. (Pause) It seems natural to be sitting 
alongside of you, though. 

Mary Anne. Does it? 

Billy. I should say it did! I 

(Dick enters l. with Mary Anne’s fan.) 


62 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Dick. (Behind settee R.) Oh, excuse me a mo- 
ment, Marion. I forgot your fan. (Gives it to her.) 
You might want it. 

Mary Anne. (Takes it) Oh. thanks. It is 
rather warm this evening. 

Dick. (To Barclay, tapping him on shoulder) 
Pardon me, old man, won’t you ? 

Billy. (Annoyed) Certainly. 

(Dick goes lJ 

Mary Anne. (To Dick,) Oh, oh, Dick 

Dick. (Stops) Yes 

Mary Anne. My handkerchief, you have that, 
too. 

Dick. (Coming back and taking handkerchief 
from his pocket) So I have. Stupid of me. 
(Tosses it to her in front of Billy.,) There! Is 
there anything else? 

Mary Anne. No, I think that’s all. 

READY Music No. 4. 

Dick. If there is, say the word. I’ll be right out 
here. Pardon me, old man, won’t you? 

Mary Anne. I won’t be long. 

Dick. Good! (Exits l v whistling.) 

Mary Anne. (To Billy,) You — were saying? 

Billy. Oh, yes — I was saying — er — let me fan 
you. 

Mary Anne. (Surrenders her fan) Please cio. 

Billy. (Fanning her) I was saying how sur- 
prised I was at seeing you again so soon. (He for- 
gets and fans himself.) Of course, I expected . . . 
(He turns , looking for Dick. Mary Anne touches 
fan.) Oh, pardon me ! 

Mary Anne. You were saying you expected 

Billy. Why — I — I ( He looks at her.) 


GOLDEN DAYS 63 

Mary Anne, you do look so wonderful to-night, I 
hardly know what I am saying. 

No. 4 MUSIC. (Waltz.) 

Mary Anne. Well, er — well (Rises and 

takes the fan.) Let’s go and join the others. 

Billy. And spoil all this ? 

Mary Anne. But I didn’t realize there was any- 
thing to spoil. 

Billy. Oh, but there is. Why, Mary Anne, now 
that I have seen you again, looked into your eyes — 

Mary Anne. (Flustered) Oh, please let’s .go in 
and dance. . 

Billy. Aw — wait, Mary Anne. I don’t think 
that’s very complimentary. You don’t seem to re- 
member old times as I do. Have you forgotten 
that moonlight dance at the Hillsbys? 

Mary Anne. (Teasing) Um . . . Let me see. 
Hillsby’s! Did we walk or did we ride? 

Billy. We walked, of course. It was only half 
a mile. Don’t you remember the wild roses we 
picked by the roadside? 

Mary Anne. I remember the thorns. 

Billy. I’ve often thought of that dance. I wish 
we were back there again to-night, Mary Anne, 
don’t you ? 

Mary Anne. Back on that country road? Like 
this? (Indicates gown.) Oh, I couldn’t! (She 
crosses to l.c. up.) 

Billy. Well, you’d be in a motor car if we were 
going there now, Mary Anne. You’d like that, 
wouldn’t you ? 

Mary Anne.. I don’t know, Mr. Barclay. 

Billy. Oh, stop calling me Mr. Barclay. Why 
don’t you call me Billy, as you used to do in the old 
days? 

Mary Anne. Well, those old days ( Shrugs.) 

Billy. No. I don’t suppose they have remained 


64 GOLDEN DAYS 

as sacred to you as they have to me. After we 
stopped writing 

Mary Anne. (Very distinctly) Yes, we did 
stop writing, didn’t you? 

Billy. (Rather sheepishly ) Oh, well, maybe I 
did. But I can explain that. You see they keep a 
fellow on the jump at college. Being umpire of the 
Football Team and all that, why 

(Dick enters l.) 

Dick. (Smilingly) Sorry, old man, I’ll have to 
take her away from you now. I promised her to 
Mason for this next one. Come on, Mason, don’t 
be shy. 

(Mason enters l. Edgar Moon follows on and 
stands up stage , looking admiringly at Mary 
Anne.J 

Mary Anne. Yes, Eve been wanting to dance. 
(This is said meaningly.) Oh, ever so much! 

Mason. B-b-book me for one every n-n-night 
this winter 

(Mary Anne skips across to Mason and drags 
him off L.) 

Billy. (Angry, to DickJ I don’t like the way 
you said that. 

Dick. ( Innocently) Said what? 

Billy. (Blurting it out) You act as if you 
owned her. 

Dick. Well, I brought her here, didn’t I? 

Billy. AH right, but where do 1 come in ? 

(Enter Patty and Teddy from r. Patty works 
to back of chair r.) 


GOLDEN DAYS 65 

Dick. Well, you just had her. What are you 
kicking about ? 

Billy. Because I don’t see what right you’ve got 
to 


(Enter Trella and Elaine up c. from l.) 

Dick. Now, don’t try to be a pig. 

Billy. (Threateningly) Say, look here . . . 

Teddy. (Who thinks his predicted “fracas” has 
arrived, comes down between them in alarm ) Now, 
boys — boys 

Dick. (To Teddy,) What’s the matter with you? 

Teddy. (Dramatically) No quarreling — no quar- 
reling. Remember where you are. 

(Billy goes far r. Edgar Moon exits l.) 

Dick. (Laughing) I know where / am, all right. 
(To Patty,) This one with me, Patty? 

(Trella up c.) 

Patty. Surely. (Patty and Dick exit l.) 

Teddy. (Looks off l.) That’s cool. 

Trella. (Goes up stage c.) Cool? It’s posi- 
tively chilly. 

Teddy. (Over to exit lJ This is my dance with 
Miss Simmonds, anyhow! 

Trella. Not this one; she’s dancing with Charlie 
Mason. 

Teddy. Well, I wonder where I come in? (Teddy 
exits off l. Trella follows as far as door , laugh- 
ing.) 

Elaine. ( Coldly ) That’s what all the boys seem 
to be wondering. (Crosses to divan. Back of it.) 


66 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Billy. (Gruffly) I’m not ... if that’s what 
you mean. (Walks straight up stage.) 

Elaine, (r.) I didn’t say "‘you.” (Down r. to 
divan. 

Trella. (c.) I think it’s really too bad we let 
Miss Slissy go. She would have been more popu- 
lar than some of us. 

Elaine. Dickie Stanhope seems to have taken 
complete charge of Miss Mary Anne Simmonds this 
evening. 

Trella. ( l.c .) Did you ever see anything like 
it? 

Billy. ( c .) That’s one of Dickie’s habits. 

Whenever there’s a pretty girl around 

Elaine. ( Spitefully ) Cheer up, perhaps your 
turn will come soon again. 

Billy. All right. I wish it would. (Exits c. 
to R.) 

(Elaine, resentful, sits r.) 

Trella. (Looking after him, hut speaking to 
ElaineJ Well, I ask you? 

Elaine. He’s acting like a perfect fool ! 

Trella. A fool, my dear — perfect or imperfect. 
(Comes to r.cJ 

WATCH Music. 

Elaine. (Crosses to l.u. entrance) And per- 
haps she isn’t the sly little minx. 

Trella. Turns out to be the niece of Mrs. 
Drexel Kirkland and trotted about by Dickie 
Stanhope. There’s some class to that little country 
maiden. 

Elaine. She was dowdy in that tea-shop to-day. 

STOP Music. 

Trella. (Looks l.) But she certainly is stun- 


GOLDEN DAYS 67 

ning to-night. When Dickie brought her in, Billy 
almost lost his balance ! 

Elaine. The way all the boys are falling for her 
is simply disgusting ! 

# 

(Trella sees Mary Anne coming and warns 
Elaine. They both go r. Mary Anne enters 
l. with Mason.J 

Mary Anne. You really don’t mean that, Mr. 
Mason. 

Mason. (Stutters occasionally ) Oh, but I do. I 
haven’t enjoyed a dance so much in a year. I don’t 
feel at home with many girls. Won’t you sit down? 
Or something? (Mary Anne sits divan l.) May 
I take that, please? (Takes her fan. Fans her. 
Edgar brings Frank on at c. They gaze at Mary 
Anne and Mason enviously.) What about the one- 
step? 

Mary Anne. I’m sorry, but I had to give that to 
Mr. Henderson. 

Mason. The waltz then? 

Mary Anne. I’m afraid I’ve almost promised 
that to Billy Barclay. 

Mason. That’s too bad — but if Billy doesn’t turn 
up, that waltz is mine, remember. I must have an- 
other. I insist. 

Mary Anne. Well, if you insist, perhaps 

Mason. Thanks. I’ll go find Billy. Maybe he’ll 
trade that one with me. You’ll excuse me, won’t 
you? (He bows very stiffly twice and exits l.) 

(Edgar advances toward Mary Anne, loses his 
courage , laughs awkwardly , turns and runs into 
Frank. They both exit in confusion at l, 
Trella up c., laughs.) 


68 GOLDEN DAYS 

Elaine. How popular you are, Miss Simmonds. 
(To c.) 

(Trella comes down r.c.) 

S 

Mary Anne. You think so? Thank you! The 
boys are very nice to me. 

Elaine. I suppose I owe you an apology. 

Mary Anne. For what? 

Elaine. For my personal questions this after- 
noon. They must have been embarrassing. 

Mary Anne. (Rises) Why, what makes you 
think that? 

Elaine. Of course, I never suspected at the 
time 

Mary Anne. (Crosses to r., nervously) Oh, 
that’s all right. 

Elaine. How is it we have never seen you in New 
York with your aunt? 

Mary Anne. (At a loss) Well, I — I haven’t 
come out yet. (She sits r. on settee.) 

Elaine. (Up at r.) Oh, I see. 

Trella. (r.c.) That was rather a good joke you 
played on us at the tea-shop. (Comes c.) 

Mary Anne. Joke? 

Trella. Yes — the costume you wore when we 
called there for tea. The — hat, you know? 

Mary Anne. The hat? Oh, yes; that’s a won- 
derful hat to wear when one milks. 

Trella. (Pause, in surprise) Milks? Cows? 

Mary Anne. Um — it’s safer. 

Trella. To wear a hat like that? Is it a new 
idea? 

Mary Anne. Very new. I was trying it for the 
first time today. 

Trella. You don’t really milk the beasts? 

Mary Anne. Cows ? Umph— hm. But the hired 


GOLDEN DAYS 69 

man helps me sometimes. He wears the same kind 
of hat I do. 

Elaine. Really? 

Mary Anne. The same, only for him the trim- 
ming is brighter. (Pause.) Of course the cow doesn’t 
wear anything. Perhaps cow styles are different in 
New York. Are they? 

Trella. (Haughtily) I really couldn’t say. 
(Tosses her hand and goes up to Elaine.J She has 
actually been spoofing us. ("Mary Anne giggles 
behind her fan, realizing she has come out ahead.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Enters l. as Billy Barclay en- 
ters r. Mrs. Kirkland sees Mary Anne and goes 
to her ) Here you are, dear. Where have you been 
keeping yourself? Dickie’s been fairly frantic. 
(Calls off h.) She’s here, Dickie. (To Mary 
Anne,) What have you been doing? 

Mary Anne. Having such an interesting conver- 
sation with Miss Webb and Miss Jewett. 

Elaine. It was enlightening, to say the least. 
("Dick enters l. Also Edgar, Annabelle and 
Frank, who remain until Mrs. Kirkland ushers 
them off with the others.) 

Dick. Marion Simmonds, how dare you stay away 
from me so long? ("Dick is back of divan l. and 
Mary Anne crosses and kneels on it to face him.) 

Mary Anne. (Coquettishly ) Why, did you miss 
me? 

Billy. (Starts across to Mary Anne,) Mary 

Anne, I wanted to ask you if ("Mrs. Kirkland 

intercepts him and gets him by the arm, taking him 
r. against his will.) 

Mrs. Kikrland. (Laughs, rounding up the 
others ) Oh, Billy, let’s all have a look at the charm- 
ing little hotel. Elaine, Trella, you come, too. What 
an innovation for Farmdale ! Your father deserves 
credit, Billy. (They move in a bunch toward R., 


70 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Billy almost dragged and looking back jealously at 
Dick in conversation with Mary Anne.) I can re- 
member when I was a girl, the only hotel in the 
town was the Mansion House. Of course, in those 
days we thought it pretty good. Is this the office 
up this way? ('Billy, Mrs. Kirkland, Trella and 
others exeunt r. Chatter. Mary Anne goes c., 
laughing at Mrs. Kirkland's tactics.) 

Dick. (To Mary Anne ) Well, how am I doing ? 

Mary Anne. Splendidly. 

Dick. Billy was so furious he nearly stood on 
his head. 

Mary Anne. (Alarmed) Oh, be careful! Don’t 
make him too angry. 

Dick. It’s great fun though. (He looks at her.) 
My, you do look stunning in that get-up ! 

Mary Anne. (Pleased) You think it becomes 
me? 

Dick. I should say I do. 

Mary Anne. (Ingeniously) I think it’s pretty too. 
I hardly feel acquainted with myself. (She sits L.J 

Dick. Mary Anne Simmons meet Miss Marion 
Simmonds. ('Mary Anne humors the mock intro- 
duction.) Gee ! Makes me feel great to kind of boss 
you around this way and in front of the fellows, too. 
(Near her.) 

Mary Anne. Auntie says you have hundreds of 
girls just falling over themselves, wishing you’d boss 
them around. 

Dick. Aw, no, I haven’t. There isn’t anyone 
cares anything about me. 

Mary Anne. (Lightly) Oh! You want one 
that’s in earnest. 

Dick. You bet I do, and Billy does, too. He's 
all right, at heart. He’s just easilv influenced, that’s 
all. 

Mary Anne. (Eagerly) You think so? 


GOLDEN DAYS 


7 1 


Dick. Sure. Elaine and Trella and that crowd 
have just got him going. He’ll come to his 
senses — I’m telling you he will. 

Mary Anne. (Plainly conveying her meaning) 
He was — talking to me just now — about old times. 

Dick. (Enthusiastically) Then it’s working. 

Mary Anne. (Crosses to l., seriously ) Yes, but 
somehow he didn’t seem quite sincere. 

Dick. He will be when we get through with him. 

Mary Anne. (Sits lJ There’s no one you may 
offend ? No 

Dick. (Laughing) Girl, you mean? I should 
say not! 

Mary Anne. (Interested) Oh, tell me .. 

Dick. Well, it was my first year in high school. 
(Pause. Bus.) She was about seven years older 
than I was. (Pause.) I used to ride out to her 
house on my bicycle ; sit on her front porch, in. the 
moonlight, and sing songs to her, tenor and bass. 

Mary Anne. Oh, you sing both ? 

Dick. I did then, my voice was changing. 

Mary Anne. Where is the girl now? 

Dick. Married. Got three children, and lives 
in Elizabeth, N. J. 

Mary Anne. (Laughing) Oh, good gracious — 
what a romance ! 

Dick. Yes, and what a finish ! (Teddy enters c. 
from r. with a bowl of punch. Billy follows, carry- 
ing a tray with punch glasses.) 

Teddy. Punch. Punch. Who’ll have punch? 
("Billy puts the tray down on desk up R.J 

Dick. Fine idea, Teddy, where’d you get it? 
("Edgar Moon enters at l.) 

Teddy. (Placing bowl on tray at desk r.) Spe- 
cial brew for the party. (Dick goes up r. of the 
divan to desk.) 


72 GOLDEN DAYS 

(Lloyd Henderson and Charles Mason enter l.) 


Edgar. (Calls off l.). Hey, punch! Quantities 
of punch. 

Mason. (At l.c.J Miss Simmonds, what about 

that fox-trot? That last one 

Mary Anne. A fox-trot, Mr. Mason? I’ll see. 
(Mason looks at her card.) 

Lloyd. Hold on! Hold on! What’s the matter 
with me ? (Edgar circulates behind other boys with 
card.) 

Mason. You! Humph! Between Trella and 
Patty Ellison I thought your card was all filled up. 
Edgar. So did I. 

(Teddy comes down toward Mary Anne with glass 
of punch. Frank and Annabelle enter c. 
from r.J 

Lloyd. (To Mason,) Not a bit like it. Go run 
away and sell your papers. You’ve already had one 

dance with Miss Simmonds — I’d like to (Shoves 

Edgar.J 

(Mrs. Kirkland, Trella, Elaine and Patty en- 
ter c. Mrs. Kirkland and Patty go down r. to 
settee. Elaine and Trella remain up c. Billy 
goes to R. of desk and Dick l. of it.) 

Teddy. (To boys down stage ) Here, here, talk- 
ing about dances. Where do I come in ? 

Mary Anne. (Takes punch and sits settee l.c., 
sipping it.) 

Mason. (To TeddyJ You? You lost your 
chance. 


GOLDEN DAYS 


73 


Teddy. Yes, ’cause you sneaked in and took it. 

Edgar. I never had a chance. 

Mason. Well, Dick said 

Dick. ( Coming down r. with two glasses of 
punch for Mrs. Kirkland and Patty, steps in he - 
tzveen boys) Never mind, Dick. Punch, boys, 
punch ! 

Teddy. (Glares at Mason, then goes up t.) Til 
punch somebody in a minute. 

Billy. (To ElaineJ Will you have some, 
Elaine ? 

MUSIC Ready No. 5. 

Elaine. (Coldly) No, thank you. (Goes far r. 
Trella is l. of desk. She gives punch to Teddy, 
who comes up.) 

Teddy. (To Elaine,) It’s all to the good. Pve 
already sampled it. (He goes down near Mary 
An.ne, above her. Lloyd, Edgar and Mason go 
up. Trella gives them punch and they go back near 
Mary Anne. Dick goes to punch bowl.) 

Patty. It snaps up one’s appetite. And Billy 
has a lovely supper for us in the private dining- 
room. 

Dick. Fine! That’ll help. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (To Mary Anne,) Having a 
happy time, dear? 

Mary Anne. Wonderful! 

Lloyd. The only trouble is Miss Simmonds is 
too popular. 

Edgar. (Ruefully) That’s the trouble. 

Lloyd. Danger of duels and all that sort of thing 
before the evening is over. 

Mary Anne. (Laughing) Better wait for the 
duel till it’s moonlight. They’re ever so much more 
thrilling and dangerous when you can see straight. 

Lloyd. Miss Simmonds, how can you be so heart- 
less? 


74 GOLDEN DAYS 

Teddy. Have you no pity for your unfortunate 
victims ? 

(Edgar, in background, gives an audible sigh.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. Men are happiest when fighting 
for their lady-loves. Why pity them? (To R.c.J 

(Mary Anne rises.) 

Dick. (To c.) Happiest moments in my young 
life! Anybody want to fight ? ( Billy glares at 

him. Dick goes c. Looks at others and suddenly 
at Billy, who is up r.) 

Lloyd. Yes, just because you brought her to the 
party. 

Edgar. Lucky dog! 

MUSIC No. 5. (Fox-trot.) 

(Lloyd takes Mary Anne’s glass up to table r.) 

Teddy. (Goes up) Him that hath — gitteth. 

Mason. (Looking at Dick) A natural born trou- 
ble maker. 

WARN Curtain. 

(Billy comes down.) 

Billy. This is the supper dance, Mary Anne, 
may I 

Dick. Supper dance? 

Lloyd. Now wait 

(All boys crowd toward Mary AnneJ 

Mason. Say, listen 

Frank. But look here, I 

Edgar. Well, I’ve been trying to get an extra 


GOLDEN DAYS 


75 


Frank. You’re not the only one. 

Mary Anne. (Rises to c.) I can’t dance with 
all of you. Which shall it be? 

Mason. Me. 

Edgar. Me ! 

Frank. Didn’t I ask you in there? 

Edgar. I spoke first. 

Lloyd. No, this one’s mine. 

(There is confusion.) (Ad lib noise.) 

Teddy. (Crowding in) Wait — wait — where do I 
come in? Like the little gentleman I am, I have 

waited patiently — silently (They push him out 

of the way.) 

Lloyd. But I haven’t had a single one yet 

Dick. (As noise becomes a hubbub, breaks in) 
Boys, boys, I’m sorry, but as I’ve already told you — 
the supper dance I have reserved especially for my- 
self. ( Offers his arm to Mary, they start l.) 
Edgar. Have a heart, Dickie ; have a heart. 

RING. 

Lloyd. Don’t be a goup. 

Mason. What do you want — the earth? 

Teddy. Where do I come in? 

(The boys follow Dick and Mary Anne out at l., 
protesting.) (TSilly stands irresolutely , staring off 
at l. after crowd. As if drawn irresistibly makes 
a stride forward, the girls starting nervously in 
unison with his step , fearful of being deserted by 
the last man present. Another step, another con- 
vulsive start, and Billy hastens off l. to join the 
others. Elaine, Trella and Annabelle are near 
divan r. and almost collapse. Patty and Mrs. 
Kirkland at l. look at them questioningly. All 
this without a moment of unnecessary delay.) 

CURTAIN 


ACT III. 


Scene : An upper reception room in Mrs. Kirk- 
land’s home , in the Eighties , near Fifth Ave- 
nue. Up c. there is a large fireplace , masked. 
Large hay windows with window seats look out 
onto the street from either side of fireplace. 
Large doors l.i. and r.i. Through the windows 
flags are seen displayed from unndows across 
the street. There is one at each window of the 
Kirkland house, depending from flagpoles. Be- 
ginning R. just above door is an armchajr. 
Then comes a Baby Grand piano, open and with 
bench. A porcelain jar on piano with flowers. 
A small chair near fireplace. Pedestal with jar 
of flowers l. Fancy desk with light chair near 
door l. Large candles on desk in polychrome 
holders. Writing materials, including plumed 
quill pen, are on desk, also a small framed minia- 
ture of Mary Anne. Below desk against wall 
is a low stool. At Cv, facing out, is a huge cush- 
ioned divan with long table backing it. The 
bronze statue on the table is visible from front 
over back of divan, also three fancy hat boxes. 
There is a bronze clock on mantel shelf, also 
two bronze candlesticks and an uklele. Wall- 
brackets and piano-lamp. No chandelier. Broad 
daylight outside. 


76 


GOLDEN DAYS 


77 


Suggestion. If the zvoodwork in the room 
has the lower part done in a deep, rich hrozun 
going into old gold at top, with dark velour cur- 
tains and a dark room carpet, the armchair and 
divan old gold, the piano, desk, desk chair and 
stool in mahogany, zvith autumn leaves and yel- 
lozv chrysanthemums in the jars, the rich effect 
of the original setting will he duplicated. 

At Rise: There is music out r. on victrola. 
Discovered: Mrs. Kirkland seated at desk l. 
Billy Barclay standing i at c. 

Billy. How long did you say she had been gone, 
Mrs. Kirkland? 

Mrs. Kirkland. About half an hour, I should 
say. She should be back very soon, now. 

Billy. (Pause) It was rather an odd move on 
her part, don’t you think, to disappear from an affair 
like this without saying a word to anybody? 

Mrs. Kirkland. Oh, Marion told me she was 
going. You see, Dickie Stanhope is looking after 
her. They took the two hunters and dashed off for 
a ride. 

Billy. (To c.) Did they? It strikes me he’s 
taking chances, going for a ride today. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Writes at desk l.i. as she 
talks) The officers aren’t particular, so long as the 
men are in their places when the time comes. It’s 
their last day, you know, and they’re everywhere 
with relatives and friends. 

Billy. I suppose I shouldn’t have expected any- 
thing different. A civilian has no right to be but- 
ting into a soldier’s farewell-party anyhow. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Cordially) But I wanted all 
the young people to be here and join in giving the 
boys a great send-off, Billy. You as well as the rest. 
Besides, you’ll be a soldier yourself before long. 


;8 GOLDEN DAYS 

Billy. You mean if the draft goes through. 
That’s the only way they’ll get me. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Smiles) You’ll be as crazy to 
fight as any of them before long. 

Billy. I’d be crazy, all right. 

(Enter Trella, r.i.e.J 


Trella. (T.iJ Come on, Billy. Elaine is ask- 
ing for you. 

Billy. What does she want? 

Trella. She says she promised you a dance. 

Billy. I don’t count today. Why doesn’t she give 
it to one of the others? 

Trella. She told them she’d promised you. (She 
goes to window r.c.J My, what a crowd! All the 
79th, too. They join the main parade at the corner. 

Billy. Mrs. Kirkland, when Mary Anne comes 
in, will you be sure to tell her I want to see her — 
about something particular? 

Mrs. Kirkland. Yes. indeed, Billy. 

Trella. (Down rJ Come on downstairs and 
dance, Billy. It’ll be all over at five o’clock. 

Billy. Oh, all right, I’m coming. You won’t for- 
get, will you, Mrs. Kirkland? 


( Billy and Trella exit r. Mrs. Kirkland exits 
l.) (''Felice enters r., showing on Miss 
Slissy. J (Victrola dies away.) 


Miss Slissy. (Looks hack tozvard r.J Is that a 
sort of tea-party goin’ on downstairs? If they in- 
tend invitin’ in all that mob I saw in the street 

Felice. Just a few acquaintances of Madame and 
Mademoiselle — boys who are leaving for France. 

Miss Slissy. Well, I don’t intend to stay long. 
I’ve got a card somewhere I know I have. I had sev- 




GOLDEN DAYS 


79 

eral. (Finds envelope and takes the card out, hand- 
ing it to Felice J When Mrs. Kirkland gets through 
seeing who it is, you can bring that back to me— if 
she ain’t noticin’. (The maid , repressing a smile, 
exits l. Miss Slissy after much fussing with her 
attire, sits l.c. She soon looks about in curiosity 
and becomes interested in the hat-boxes. She yields 
to temptation and going over lifts the lid from one 
and takes out hat. Holds it up and viezvs it critically. 
She gives contemptuous ejaculation.) Humph! (She 
peeps into the second box after replacing the first 
hat and is just putting the cover on the third, when 
Mrs. Kirkland enters l. Felice follozvs her and 
exits r. Miss Slissy clears her throat and tries to 
assume a careless manner.) Pretty coverin’ on these 
boxes. Sort of wall-paperish. 

Mrs. Ktrkland. (Looking at card she holds) 
Miss Sarah Applegate Slissy 2 • 

Miss Slissy. Yes, Mrs. Kirkland. How do you 
do ? 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Accepting her hand, politely) 
I’m very well, thank you. You are from Farm- 
dale. 

Miss Slissy. I kinda thought you’d remember me, 
seein’ as how I’m the milliner and dressmaker there. 
Would you mind tellin’ one whether them beads 
you’re wearin’ is real or imitation? 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Smiles, amused) Real, I 
hope. I believe I have heard my sister speak of 
you. 

Miss Slissy. She ought to mention me favorable, 
after all the fuss I went to in turnin’ her old black 
dress last winter and not askin’ half as much as she’d 
been willin’ to pay. I always was too easy-goin’ for 
my own good. Would you mind givin’ that card 
back to me to use another time? 


80 GOLDEN DAYS 

Mrs. Kirkland. Certainly not. (Hands it to 
her.) 

Miss Slissy. I ’spose you noticed them hand- 
made flourishes and that flyin’ dove. Charlie Wat- 
son, the barber in our town, is awful artistic. He 
turns them out between shaves. Visitin’-cards like he 
does is very expensive. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Kindly) I hope I returned it 
to you uninjured. 

Miss Slissy. Well, there’s a little crack across 
one corner, but it might have been there before. Is 
Mary Anne at home? 

Mrs. Kirkland. Not yet, she’s out riding. But — 
won’t you sit down? 

Miss Slissy. Can’t stay long. Got to make the 
four o’clock train. I’m in the city on business, 
though mostly I prefer Bridgeport as the styles there 
is more cosmopolitan, but I thought I’d try to take 
in Mary Anne this time so I made it New York. 

Mrs. Kirkland. That’s very kind of you, I’m 
sure. 

Miss Slissy. Would you mind my peekin’ in that 
end hat box, seein’ as I’m in town to get the styles? 
It’s the only one I missed. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Not at all. 

Miss Slissy. (Takes out hat) Hm, it looks a lit- 
tle pert for you. 

Mrs. Kirkland. It’s Marion’s. 

Miss Slissy. Which one is yours ? 

Mrs. Kirkland. They’re all Marion’s. 

Miss Slissy. All four? 

Mrs. Kirkland. Yes. 

Miss Slissy. Do you mean to tell me she wants 
four hats all at once? 

Mrs. Kirkland. Well, she never wears more 
than two at the same time. 


GOLDEN DAYS 81 

Miss Slissy. You mean she wears a couple of 
hats on her head instead of one? 

Mrs. Kirkland. I said she never wore more 
than two. 

Miss Slissy. Well, the oftener I see city folks 
and hear ’em talk, the less I understand ’em. I’m 
thankful I don’t live in the city. 

Mrs. Kirkland. We all have much to be thank- 
ful for. 

Miss Slissy. ( Holds up the fourth hat ) I s’pose 
you gave considerable for this? 

Mrs. Kirkland. The price is probably marked 
inside. 

Miss Slissy. (Finds it) Eighty -five dollars. I 
could duplicate it for eighteen and make money. 
Mary Anne wearin’ a hat like that, and to think she 
used to be a Sunday school teacher at the Farmdale 
Methodist Church. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Well, she’s still eligible for that 
position. Lately much of Marion’s time has been 
devoted to war and charity work. 

Miss Slissy. I dunno, I think she’d better come 
back home. Her Ma ain’t well. When I was sayin’ 
to her yesterday that I didn’t suppose Mary Anne 
would ever be the same girl she was before Billie 
Barclay threw her over — she answered me in such a 
snappy way — I just knew her nerves was all to 
pieces. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Rises, dismissingly) Perhaps, 
Miss Slissy, the next time you come, you may be 
fortunate enough to find Mary Anne at home. 

Miss Slissy. I ’spose that’s a hint. Oh, that’s 
all right. I’m used to ’em. Your man asked me 
when I rung the bell if I was one of the folks ex- 
pected, and seein’ you have company, why 

(Enter Mary Anne, l.i., in a modish riding suit 
with breeches, her hat in her hand She is radiant, 


82 GOLDEN DAYS 

flushed with excitement .) Land sakes, Mary Anne ! 

Mary Anne. Hello, Miss Slissy! Have you just 
come in? 

Miss Slissy. No, I’m just going out. What on 
earth have you got on ? 

Mary Anne. (Looks at herself) Why, what’s 
the matter with it? 

Miss Slissy. Do you mean to say you ride 
straddle ? 

Mary Anne. I ride a man’s saddle. Everyone 
does. 

Miss Slissy. I never did approve of ’em. To 
think of you bein’ able to stand there without a 
blush, showin’ your — my goodness, but the world 
does change ! 

Mary Anne. Oh, tell me about mother. When 
did you see her last? How is she? 

Miss Slissy. Pretty nervous, if you ask me. 

Mrs. Kirkland. I think Miss Slissy just imagines 
the nerves, my dear. Your mother wrote me yes- 
terday saying she was looking forward to your visit 
home and feeling fine. 

Miss Slissy. I hope you’re goin’ home soon, 
Mary Anne, with things the way they’ve been with- 
out you. 

Mary Anne. Why, hasn’t everything been all 
right ? 

Miss Slissy. To think that during that storm last 
week when the rain broke through your poor Ma’s 
spareroom ceilin’, she was all alone and needin’ 
help. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Well, now, that is too bad. 
Marion, if you had been there, you see, you might 
have spread yourself over the roof in such a fashion 
as to have kept the rain from coming through. 
("Mary Anne, though Mrs. .Kirkland keeps a 
straight face , has difficulty to restrain a giggle.) 


GOLDEN DAYS 83 

May I send you up some tea before you go, Miss 
Slissy ? ( Starts tozvard r .) 

Miss Slissy. Thank you, but I can’t afford to 
miss my train for a cup of tea. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Have you a taxi waiting? 

Miss Slissy. No. I rode in one once and it gave 
me heart failure watchin’ the meter. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Presses button over r ) I’ll 
send you to the station in the limousine. 

Miss Slissy. Dear me, Mrs. Kirkland, I always 
did mention you to the folks at home as being 
rather polite. I never rode in one of them things in 
my life. 

Mary Anne. Give my love to Mumsie, and kiss 
my dog Skeeters on his old woolly head and tell 
him I’ll soon be there to give him a shampoo, won’t 
you? 

Miss Slissy. I decline to kiss a dog. 

Mary Anne. Why, Skeeters wouldn’t object. 

('Felice enters l.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. Felice, tell Randolph to bring 
the limousine around and take Miss Slissy to the 
Grand Central Station. 

Felice. Oui, Madame. ( Goes to r.i.e. and exits) 

Miss Slissy. Dear me, I’m glad I came! 

Mrs. Kirkland. Randolph will put you in the 
car. 

Miss Slissy. Mary Anne, some of your hats are 
real chic, and if I hadn’t seen you in that riding suit 
— but of course I won’t say a word about it to any- 
one, else, but wait till I tell your mother ! Good-by ! 

Mary Anne and Mrs. Kirkland. Good-by, etc. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (To Mary Anne, laughing) 


GOLDEN DAYS 


84 

And to think she walked right into it! Well, dear? 
How about the ride. 

Mary Anne. We got the horses back into the 
barn and not a soul saw us. I sneaked in the back 
way. Dickie’s sneaking in the front. The roads 
were wonderful! The horses were fresh and went 
like a shot. 

Mrs. Kirkland. That was rather daring of you 
to steal Dickie away. He had such a short time. 

Mary Anne. But we wanted one last ride to- 
gether. And, besides, Dickie himself proposed it — 
and it was such fun ! You know, Auntie, I am going 
to miss my rides with Dickie — honestly. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Billy Barclay is here. 

Mary Anne. ( Goes to divan c. and slumps down 
almost on her shoulder-blades) Yes, I know — he 
was here before I left. 

Mrs. Kirkland. He says he has something par- 
ticular to say to you. 

Mary Anne. You know, Auntie, I’m a little dis- 
pointed that Billy isn’t in uniform. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Oh, but I’m sure he will be. 

Mary Anne. Dickie looks so heroic in his. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Did you have your French 
lesson this morning? 

Mary Anne.. Yes, indeed, and Monsieur Devoe 
feels very much encouraged. I can say “Where is 
the penknife of the gardener’s aunt” so perfectly 
that he can almost understand me. (Mrs. Kirk- 
land laughs.) Dickie can understand my French, 
almost every word I say. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Dickie is a very understanding 
young man. 

Mary Anne. (A shadow on her face) Auntie, 
do you suppose it will last a very long time? 

Mrs. Kirkland. We all hope not, dear. 

Mary Anne. It’s terrible — so many going. 


GOLDEN DAYS 


85 

Mrs. Kirkland. Happy-hearted boys, most of 
them ignorant of what lies ahead. Going into that 
gigantic struggle as carelessly as if it were only a 
football game. (Shakes off depression for Mary 
Anne's sake.) Now don't forget your music lesson 
late this afternoon. 

Mary Anne. ( Not suspecting Mrs. Kirkland is 
leading her away from the subject) Oh, I won’t for- 
get that ( Sadly ) There won’t be many dances 

and things to go to with all the boys away. Lloyd, 
Charlie, Teddy Farnum — Dick. (She pauses, deeply 
thoughtful , then starts up with some animation .) 
Auntie, I saw Fannie Merton again this morning. 

Mrs. Kirkland. ( Sits on divan) Your little 
Salvation Army friend? 

Mary Anne. Yes. She's leaving soon to go over 
seas. She looked so earnest and capable in her uni- 
form. I wish I could do something big to help. 
She made me feel, somehow, so small beside her. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Why,. child, you've been devot- 
ing hours and hours to Red Cross work and 

Mary Anne. But she’s going over there to be 
right with them, near them, devoting her whole life 
to helping them. It made me feel sort of stranded 
and left behind. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Oh, come now! All your 
friends aren’t going, and most of those who are 
will be back before you know it. 

(Dick enters r.i. He is in uniform. He enters with 
the sense he is being followed and glances back 
once in a while.) 

Dick. (Brimming with life and mischief) Hello! 

Mrs. Kirkland. Well, Dickie, you seem to have 
been taking full advantage of your last few mo- 
ments. 


86 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Dick. You bet! (To Mary Anne.) And it was 
some ride, too, wasn’t it? 

Mary Anne. Wonderful ! I haven’t got my 
breath back yet. 

Dick. From now on, I’ll probably be doing my 
riding in a box-car. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Crosses to r.) Don’t monopo- 
lize Marion too long, Dickie. 

Dick. If you see Billy Barclay, Auntie Kirk, tell 
him where I am. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Dick, you’re making that boy’s 
life a burden. 

Dick. (Smiling) Well, it was your idea. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Significantly) Yes, Dickie — 
that’s the way it began. (She exits r.t. Dick looks 
puzzled.) 

Mary Anne. (Excited) Was he following you? 

Dick. (Laughing) He was, but I lost him. He 
thinks I went into the dining-room. I did. In one 
door — out the other. 

Mary Anne. (Giggles) Isn’t it funny? 

Dick. He always tries to appear so innocent, too, 
when he catches us, with such an “Oh, I beg your 
pardon, I didn’t know anyone was here” kind of 
attitude — poor old Billy! 

Mary Anne. I’ll tell you what (Laughs 

again.) Let’s wait here and see if he’ll find us. 

Dick. He will. I don’t know who’s been kept 
busier — Billy watching us, or Elaine watching Billy. 
They’re the pop-eyed twins all right. 

Mary Anne. (Apprehensively) Oh, she might 
come up, too. 

Dick. I hadn’t thought of that — she (He 

looks r. and whispers to Mary Anne.) Some one’s 
coming up the stairs now ; maybe it’s Billy. (They 
both move quickly to the divan c. and sit close to- 
gether , he in a very attentive attitude. They talk to 


GOLDEN DAYS 


87 

each other in pantomime, especially designed for 
Barclay’s entrance. No one enters. Dick turns his 
head slowly and looks 1 r., then rises, tip-toes to R.. 
and looks down the stairs.) No, I was mistaken. 
It’s no one. 

Mary Anne. (With a sigh of relief) Phew, don’t 
give me a fright like that again ! 

Dick. What was I saying? 

Mary Anne. About Elaine 

Dick. Oh, yes. It will be all the better if she 
does come looking for Billy. I’ll leave you alone 

with him and — then (A good thought strikes 

him.) I’ll bring her up. 

Mary Anne. (Alarmed, arises) Oh, goodness, 
no — don’t do that! 

Dick. Why not ? 

Mary Anne. It — it looks so deliberate. (Rises.) 

Dick. Yes, she might get on. I wouldn’t be sur- 
prised if she is already the way we’ve been hitting 
it up. 

Mary Anne. (Musingly) We have, haven’t we? 
I’ve felt sorry for you sometimes. 

Dick. Sor/y for me, why? 

Mary Anne. You’ve made yourself such a martyr 
to the cause. 

Dick. (Smiling) Don’t mind me, I like it. 

Mary Anne. Such a rush of theatres, dances, 

country-clubs, horseback rides Oh, it’s been too 

thrilling for words — but hard on you! 

Dick. Never had such fun in all my life! 

Mary Anne. (Sadly) And now you’re going 
away. 

Dick. (Looking r.J Sh — here he comes, on the 
level, this time. (They assume positions once more 
on the divan, in intimate conversation.) 

Mary Anne. Wait! (With sudden inspiration 
she gets uklele from mantelpiece . They sit in former 


88 


GOLDEN DAYS 


position and Dick strums Hawaiian melody, then 
strikes chord to begin song. Mary Anne starts 
ahead of time. He tells her (ad lib) to wait, then 
strikes chord again.) 

Both. (Sing) 

“Farewell to you 
My own true love ” 

(In the middle of the strain, Billy enters. He 
stands r., looking at them glumly.) 

Both. “Thou charming one who dwells amid 
bowers ” 

Billy. (Breaking in) I beg your pardon, I didn’t 
know anybody was here. 

Dick. (Briskly) Oh, hello, Billy, come in! Just 
sneaked up for a cigarette. Have one? 

Billy. No, thank you. 

Both. (Singing) 

“One fond embrace 
Ere you now once more depart.” 

Billy. Pretty room this, isn’t it ? 

Dick. (Careless) Yes? Isn’t it? 

(They continue the song. Billy listens a moment.) 

Billy. (Acidly, to DickJ Yes. I — I just said 
it was. 


(Singing proceeds.) 

Dick. (Stops. Playing with him) Nice — pictures 
on the wall — and everything. ("Billy makes pretense 
of looking around at the pictures.) Nice — ah ! Nice 
air, too. Cosy sofa. 

Both. ( Sing again) “Until we meet again.” 

Mary Anne. (Seeing the situation and anxious 


GOLDEN DAYS 


89 

to save Billy from embarrassment ) Oh, won’t you 
sit down, too, Billy? (She moves over l. on divan.) 

Billy. (More cheerful) Thanks. 

fBiLLY comes over to sit between Dick and Mary 
Anne, but Dick innocently moves over l. 
Billy is forced to sit r.) 

Mary Anne. (Looking across Dick at Billy J I 
haven’t seen you for a long time. I guess we’ve 
both been busy. 

Dick. (Maliciously ) Yes, haven’t we? (Idly 
picking away at the music.) 

Billy. That’s just about it — even if she didn’t 
mean it that way. 

Mary Anne. (Not wanting to make it too easy 
for him) But perhaps I did, Billy. 

Billy. Did what? 

Mary Anne. Perhaps I did mean it. 

Billy. (Floundering) What? 

Dick. Say! This is getting all mixed up, isn’t 
it? 

Billy. (Wiping his forehead) Yes, it is. (There 
is a pause. Dick picks idly.) 

Mary Anne. (To Billy in a formal tone) Did 
you play much tennis this summer, Billy? 

Billy. (A little peeved) No. 

Dick. (Cheerfully) We did. 

Billy. (To Dick, boastingly) I taught her how 
to play tennis, you know. 

Dick. Ah, did you ? Thanks, old man. (There is 
an awkward silence. Dick lets his gaze meander 
round the room and begins to play idly. Rises and 
goes r.J Well, I’ll go see what the others are do- 
ing. You’ll excuse me, Billy? 

Billy. (Rises) But — but look here. Just a 
minute ! 


90 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Dick. Yes? 

Billy. (Rushing ahead) I want to ask you a 
question — one that I wouldn’t ask except that you’re 
going away. 

Mary Anne. (Rises) Oh! Shall I go? 

Billy. No, don’t — it’s about you. 

Mary Anne. (Puzzled) Me? 

Billy. Yes. I wouldn’t say it except Dick’s go- 
ing away and I’ve got to. (A pause, then he blurts 
it out, the words tumbling over each other.) Every- 
one says that you and Dick are engaged. Is it true? 

Mary Anne. (Frightfully embarrassed) Oh! 
Why — why, how can you say such a thing! Of — of 
course not! We’re, we’re just good friends, that’s 
all, and, and 

Billy. (To Dick,) Then, on the level, there’s 
nothing between you? (Brief pause.) 

Dick. Mary Anne has just answered your ques- 
tion, hasn’t she? She has said we were just good 
friends, splendid friends, and that was — all. I’m 

glad she has spoken out ; it is only fair to (Dick 

breaks off, not knowing how to finish. He pauses 
a moment, then starts r.J 

Mary Anne. (As he starts away) Dick! I 
don’t want you to go. Please stay ! 

Dick. Well, I think I’d better go now, Marion. 
(Carelessly.) I’ll see you later. 

Mary Anne. (Starts to follozv him) But, 
Dick 

Billy. (Stops her) Mary Anne, please! (Dick 
exits. She turns back.) 

Mary Anne. Oh, how could you ask Dick a 
question like that — “if — if we were engaged” — right 
before me — I — I thought I’d die! (She covers her 
face with her hands.) Oh, what do you think a girl 
is made of? 

Billy. What do you think a fellow is made of, 


GOLDEN DAYS 


9i 


that’s what I’d like to know? I’m glad I said what 
I did and got the truth. 

Mary Anne. The truth? 

Billy Yes — that you’ve been ‘'putting across” 
something — you two — a little game In other words, 
he was in cahoots with you to wake me up — coax 
me along You care for me, and he knows it. 

Mary Anne. I — I haven’t said I cared. 

Billy. Long ago you said it (Starts for 

her.) Mary Anne. 

Mary Anne. Oh, wait — let me think! 

Billy. (Feels in pocket ) Well, here’s a nice lit- 
tle ring for you while you’re thinking. (He shows 
her a diamond ring.) I don’t want to boast, but 
there’s a certain other young lady who wouldn’t 
have to be coaxed to put it on — but you’re the girl 

for me. You played for me — and got me. Here 

(He tries to put ring on her finger. She shrinks 
hack.) 

Mary Anne. Oh, no — not now! 

Billy. Well, you are a funny one. You don’t 
deny that you and Dick deliberately tried to make 
me jealous? 

Mary Anne. No — I don’t deny anything, but 

Billy. You want to play fair, don’t you? 

Mary Anne. Yes, yes, to everyone! 

Billy. Then you’re mine, and I’m going to kiss 
you ! 

Mary Anne. No, no! 

Billy. (Arms about her) Yes! 

Mary Anne. Don’t you dare — I’ll never speak 
to you again if you do. 

Billy. Now, stop fooling (He kisses her in 

spite of protest. Ad lib protest. Mary Anne breaks 
away angry.) 

Mary Anne. (Exits to R .) Oh, how dare you 


9 2 GOLDEN DAYS 

do that to me? How dare you, you had no right, 
you 

(Trella is heard out r.i.) 

Trella. Oh, come on, Elaine. 

Mary Anne. Trella! Elaine — oh! ( She starts 
for door l., but sees she won't have time to make it, 
so changes her mind and darts back of the curtain at 
window r.c. Billy is looking r. and thinks Mary 
Anne has left the room. Trella enters r., fol- 
lowed by Elaine.) 

Trella. (r.c. to Elaine) Come on — he must 
be somewhere. (Sees Billy.) Yes, here’s Billy! 

Elaine. ('Trella goes up c.) I wondered what 
had become of you. ( Curiously.) What are you 
doing up here, all alone? 

Billy. (Grouchy) I haven’t been alone. Dickie 
Stanhope and Mary Anne were here just now, 
but 

Elaine. (Spitefully) But Dickie took her away 
as usual. I should think you’d be tired of making 
a fool of yourself by this time. (He moves to r., 
she goes to him, Billy to l.) Now, Billy, listen! 

Billy. Oh, let me alone. 

Elaine. Well, aren’t you going to dance? 

Billy. (Crosses to r . and exits) No, I’m sick 
and tired of this place. I’m going home. 

Elaine. Billy 

Billy. Let me alone. ( He brushes past her , exits 
R.I.E. She sits on the divan c.) 

Elaine. Oh, I hate him sometimes. He’s always 
doing something to make me feel ridiculous. 

Trella. (On end of divan) You don’t hate him. 

Elaine. ( Sits on divan) I do. I do. And I 
hate myself, too. 

Trella, Sh — don’t talk so loud! 


GOLDEN DAYS 


93 


Elaine. It’s all that Marion Simmonds’ fault. 

Trella. Well, I’d let her have him if I were you. 
1 here are plenty of men who’d be glad of a chance 
to marry a girl like you. 

Elaine. Oh, yes, I can sell myself to that ugly 
old Dreyfuss, I suppose — or that common Ridge- 
way — but it seems as if it would kill me. 

Trella. Haven’t your folks any money any more, 
Elaine ? 

Elaine. Not much, T guess. 

Trella. Elaine! 

Elaine. Mother said I could get Billy if I tried 
hard enough. And I was willing to try, because 

Trella. Because you loved him a little, too. 

Elaine. And he loved me — he told me so — I 
hoped I was going to win for father’s sake, but I’m 
not. Poor dad! 

Trella. (Rises, hears some one coming R.j 
Sh 

(^Mrs. Kirkland enters r. Elaine rises to l.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. What’s this — deserting our 
boys ? 

Trella. (Dozvn r., confused) Oh, just for a 
moment. 

Mrs. Kirkland, (c.) Has any one seen Marion? 

Trella. Billy said she was here before we came. 

Mrs. Kirkland. I suppose she’s in her room. 
Better go down ; they’re asking for you. The boys 
are getting ready. (To c.) 

Trella. We must not miss the Grande Finale. 
Come on, Elaine. ( Goes R.J 

Mrs. Kirkland. (As she goes l. Noticing 
Elaine’s manner) Don’t you feel well, Elaine? 

Elaine. A headache, that’s all. 


94 GOLDEN DAYS 

Mrs. Kirkland. Fm sorry. Can I get anything 
for you? 

Elaine. No, thank you ; I’ll be better soon. Fm 
going back to the others. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Trella, make things lively as 
you can. I’ll be down before long. 

Trella. Righto ! “Lively’s” the word. Come on, 
Elaine. 

(Tllaine and Trella exit r. Mrs. Kirkland moves 
to door l. Mary Anne parts the curtains at 
r.c. Mrs. Kirkland turns and sees her. Mary 
Anne rushes toward her, embarrassed and ex- 
cited.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. Why, Marion, what is it? 
What in the world were you 

Mary Anne. Auntie, I’ve done a terrible thing — 
overheard something not meant for me to hear. I 
couldn’t help it. It was an accident. (Looking off 
toward door rJ Oh. I never dreamed it all meant 
so much to Elaine ! 

Mrs. Kirkland. All what, child? 

Mary Anne. Her keeping on with Billy. Her 

father (Interrupts herself to pave the way for 

her request.) Aunty, I wonder if you’d do some- 
thing for me if I made it up to you in other ways ; 
gave up music and French lessons and lovely hats 
and gowns — and everything else that costs a lot of 
money ? 

Mrs. Kirkland. ( Gently) Try me and see, dear. 
You make it sound like something quite serious. 
What is it you want me to do ? 

Mary Anne. Elaine Jewett’s father is in trouble, 
big trouble, about money matters. If you could only 
think of some way to help him — put him on his feet 


GOLDEN DAYS 95 

again — it would make me feel so much happier — 
about Elaine. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Well, at least I can inquire into 
it. And all for Elaine, eh? Why are you so 

Mary Anne. Because I’m sorry for Elaine — 
sorry I teased her about Billy — not knowing. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Sorry you teased Billy Barclay, 
too? 

Mary Anne. No. Yes. I don’t know. (Rests 
her head against Mrs. Kirkland’s shoulder in child- 
like bewilderment.) Aunty, I don’t know what’s 
the matter with me. I don’t feel the same about 
him as I did. I don’t know what it is — but it’s dif- 
ferent. 

(Dick Stanhope bursts into the room from r.J 

Dick. Mary Anne Simmonds, if you don’t hurry 
up and change those clothes, I’ll be dancing down 
Fifth Avenue with a gun on my shoulder and you’ll 
be sorry 

Mary Anne. Oh, good gracious, Dickie — I’ll 
hurry! (Mary Anne hurries out l.i.) 

Dick. Excuse, me, Auntie Kirk, won’t you? I’m 
a very busy man. (He dashes off rJ 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Back of table) My word! 
What is all this? 

Dick. (Off r.i.eJ Hello, Patty — when did you 
get back? Excuse me, I’m in an awful rush. 

(Patty enters r.i.e.J 

Patty. What on earth is the matter with Dickie ? 
(Going over.) Hello, Mrs. Kirkland. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Hello, Patty, I didn’t think you 
could stay in Washington with all this going on. 


9 6 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Patty. (Both sit c.) With a perfectly good fiance 
about to march off to fight? I should say not. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Laughing) I don’t blame you. 

Patty. You know, the uniform with Teddy inside 
of it, is rather more than I can withstand. He looks 
two inches taller. I just stare at him and gasp. I can’t 
realize it’s Teddy at all. Oh, I’m so proud of him ! 

Mrs. Kirkland. Patty, I do believe you’re one 
in a thousand. 

Patty. Me ? 

Mrs. Kirkland. You’re taking it just as I would 
want my girl to take it — if I had one. 

Patty. Why, how do you mean? 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Smilingly) Making out it’s 
just a lark. You see, you won’t even admit it to 
me, but I know, Patty, just what you are doing. 

Patty. (No longer trying to bluff) Do you? 

Mrs. Kirkland. ( Quite simply ) Yes, Patty. 

Patty. I’m glad of that. I did want to tell some- 
body. You see, I felt that it was up to some of us 
not to — well, not to let go, no matter what hap- 
pened. Of course, there’s bound to be those who do 
let go and those who don’t. I used to be one of 
those who did myself, when I was younger. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (With a smile) How old are 
you — now ? 

Patty. (With dignity) Oh, I’m nearly nineteen. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Nearly nineteen! 

Patty. Perhaps that sounds young, but it isn’t 
— always. 

Mrs. Kirkland. No? How old is Teddy? 

Patty. (Importantly) Teddy is twenty-one. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Nineteen and twenty-one. 
(Sighs reminiscently.) 

Patty. You see, I know there’ll be lots of times 
when he’ll need some one — and I might as well be- 








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GOLDEN DAYS 


97 

gin now, at the hardest time of all, to sort of — well, 
to sort of take charge, you know. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Yes, I know, dear. 

Patty. It’s — well, at least it's awfull good prac- 
tice. But there, I’ve talked enough about myself. 
Where’s Marion? 

Mrs. Kirkland. She’s changing her dress. It 
won’t take her long. 

Teddy Farnum. (Outside r.) What-ho, what- 
ho, within ! 

Patty. There’s my Teddy Bear. (Rises, snatches 
off hat and holds it high.) Come in, Army. ^Mrs. 
Kirkland rises.) 

Teddy. (Enters r.i.) Hello, Mrs. Kirkland, I’m 
awful late, but I had so much to do. (He glares at 
Patty — crosses to l.) I’ve been hanging around the 
Pennsylvania Station waiting for you for two hours. 

Patty. Have you, Teddy darling? Attention! 
Isn’t he wonderful, Mrs. Kirkland? Won’t the 
army just fall dead at sight of him? 

(Teddy stands at attention for a moment, then to 
Mrs. KlRKLAND. j 

Teddy. Mrs. Kirkland, what do you think of her? 
Going to allow a perfectly good fiance to go to 
France without the joy of pressing him to her heart 
for the last time ? 

Patty. I’m afraid, Teddy, to press you too hard. 
You might break in the middle. 

Teddy. When I come back all covered with 
medals, you’ll be sorry for treating me like this. 

Patty. Honest, Teddy, I missed the Pennsyl- 
vania and had to come on the Reading. 

Teddy. No wonder I waited. 


(Enter r., talking gaily among themselves, Li.oyd, 


98 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Mason, Trella, Frank and Edgar. All the 
hoys are in uniform.) 

Mason. May we come in? 

Mrs. Kirkland. Certainly. 

Annabelle. Patty! (Rushes over l. to embrace 
Patty.) 

Trella. Patty Dear! (Embraces Patty also. 
Chatter.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. Annabelle, Pm glad you could 
come after all. 

Annabelle. So am I. 

Lloyd. It’s a foraging party, Mrs. Kirkland. 

Teddy. In quest of food and things. 

Trella. He’s always wanting food. 

Teddy. I feel like an empty ship. 

Mason. You 1-1-look like one. (All laugh.) 

Teddy. (Glaring at him) Is that so? (He makes 
as if to fight with Mason, ad lib.) 

Lloyd. Where is the radiant Marion Simmonds? 

Mrs. Kirkland. Changing from her riding habit. 

Annabelle. It’s the duckiest little outfit I ever 
saw. 

Lloyd. Well, she needn’t have changed on my 
account. 

Mrs. Kirkland. I have tea all ready for you. 
Where’s Dick? 

Edgar. Smoking on the veranda when I saw him 
last. 

Lloyd. We have only a few minutes left. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Then we must hurry. ( Crosses 
to r. and exits.) 

Lloyd. (Turns up to window) Say, how far do 
we have to march, Frank? 

Frank. Across the briny, and then some. 

Mason. (Looks at wrist watch) Gosh, we only 
have t-twenty minutes. 


GOLDEN DAYS 


99 


Edgar. Then don’t use them up trying to talk. 

Trella. I don’t see why we girls aren’t invited 
to the station? 

Teddy. Our tender hearts could not withstand 
your tears. (All laugh,) 

Mason. You’ll have to watch us march off from 
the balcony. 

Lloyd. Yes, and see that you are all there. 

Edgar. ( Suddenly goes to c.) The Overseas Glee 
Club is in charge of the music. 

Lloyd. (Takes a tuning-fork from his pocket, 
strikes it and puts it to his ear, then emits a tone. 
Teddy, Lloyd, Edagr and Mason crowd together 
merrily. In harmony they sing a chorus of “Mer- 
rily we roll along,” etc.) 

Patty. (With meaning) I thought you said 
“music”? 


(Enter Mrs. Kirkland and Felice .) 

Teddy. Oh, we have others that are much worse! 

(Trella laughs and goes up stage. Teddy goes back 
of table. Mrs. Kirkland and Felice bring 
in tea-roller service and sandwiches. Tea-wagon 
is rolled to R. of couch c. Things lifted to 
table.) 

Mason. Oh, look ! The eats ! 

Lloyd. (Down l.cl ) The baby carriage— behold ! 

Teddy. Child's restaurant. 

Lloyd. (Still sitting) Lead it to me! 

Mason. Nothing like this in F-France! 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Felice exits R.i.j Boys, put 
the hat-boxes under the table. 

(All boys scramble to do this. Trella goes round.) 


100 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Mason. S-setting down exercises. (Takes out a 
hat.) Dainty confection, eh, what? 

Patty. Marion’s? (Trella helps Mrs. Kirk- 
land.J 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Nods) Um (Teddy 

takes the hat from Mason and puts it on his head.) 

Patty. Teddy Farnurri, take that hat off this in- 
stant ! 

Teddy. Am I not an alluring creature? 

Patty. (In mock seriousness) Please, Teddy, 
let me remember you pleasantly. (All laugh at this. 
Teddy puts the hat back in the box. The boys have 
stacked them behind and under the table. Teddy\ 
puts sections of sandwich between fingers.) 

Teddy. Draw a card, some one 

Mrs. Kirkland. Tea is ready. Teddy, give this 
to Patty. 

Teddy. (Takes cup to Patty J Gracious lady! 
Just a sip , for your fair lip. 

Patty. (Accepts it) Thank you, I’d prefer a 
cupful. 

(As Teddy gives cup to Patty, Lloyd goes over 
with cup for Trella, back of piano, r. up.) 

Teddy. (Points to cup in her hand where a small 
sandwich rests on the side ) Arrow points to sand- 
wich. (Begins to eat sandwich betiveen fingers.) 
Patty. How many have you got? 

Mrs. Kirkland. Let him have all he wants. 

(Any time in here, Mrs. Kirkland signals to Fe- 
lice, zvho exits .rJ 

Patty. That’s his usual number. (All laugh.) 
Lloyd. (Lazily, still seated) Isn’t anybody go- 
ing to help me? 


GOLDEN DAYS 


IOI 


Teddy. (Taking a bite) Yes, this is yours. 
Lloyd. (Decides he must wait on himeslf) Oh, 
well ! 

Mason. No more chick sandwiches for many a 
moon. 1 

Teddy. Speaking of moons 

Edgar. Sounds like a music cue ! 

Teddy. I wonder if the moon over there is as 
white and round as the one over here? 

Patty. Yes, and makes fellows just as silly, so 
you be careful! 

Teddy. (To Patty,) Don’t you trust me? 

(Mrs. Kirkland laughs and strolls to Trella at 
piano bench.) 

Patty. Absolutely. But I’m going to have the 
boys watch you just the same. (All laugh.) 

Lloyd. (Down c.) We’ll see that none of those 
dark-eyed French girls steal him, Patty. 

Mason. Why doesn’t Marion come? 

(Teddy leads, all the boys join in the college yell.) 

Teddy, Lloyd, Edgar and Mason. 

Why doesn’t Marion come? 

Why doesn’t Marion come? 

We want Marion ! 

We want Marion !• 

We want Marion Simmonds! 

(Patty laughs and goes to window l. Marion 
enters l. She is dressed in a dainty afternoon 
frock.) 

Mary Anne. Who’s taking my name in vain? 
(The boys crowd about her.) 


102 GOLDEN DAYS 

Boys. (In chorus. Patty comes down l.) 

Ah! 

I am the guilty party. (Mason.) 

We have been wishing for you. (Lloyd.) 

We bow before you. (Teddy.) 

We couldn’t wait any longer. (Edgar.) 

Mary Anne. (Playfully slaps head of the kneel- 
ing Teddy) Where’s Dick? 

(The hoys howl in rage. They go up stage.) 

Teddy. That’s what we get — “Where’s Dick?” 

Patty. Marion ! 

Mary Anne. (Sees Patty for first time) Patty ! 
(They embrace.) We were so afraid you couldn’t 
get here. 

Teddy. I wasn’t. The magnet — (Indicates him- 
self) — is sure to draw the needle — (Points to Pat- 
ty). She brings great news from Washington, 
Marion. The White House is still white. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (To Marion) The boys have 
only a short time now, dear. We’re having tea up 
here. 

Trella. (To Edgar) Where are you bound 
for? Montreal? 

Edgar. Search me. 

Mary Anne. What time does the train leave the 
station ? 

Mason. Six. We start from the corner at five. 

Mary Anne. (Looks at her wrist-watch) It’s 
fifteen minutes of that now. Where’s Dick? 

Teddy. Why the anxiety about Dick ? 

Mary Anne. (Sits at desk, facing crowd) Well, 
I — I just wondered. 

Mrs. Kirkland. They’ve been such good friends, 
and she has a little gift for him on leaving — that’s 
all. 


GOLDEN DAYS 


103 


Teddy. Lucky Dickie! 

Patty. Teddy Farnum, didn’t I give you a wrist- 
watch ? 

Teddy. Bless your little heart — so you did! 
( Shows the company.) Behold ! Size six and seven- 
eighths. 

Mason. ( Shows a watch on each wrist ) I got 
two . (Holds both wrists down, exhibiting.) 

Teddy. His third will be worn around his ankle, 
in the guard-house, with a ball and chain attach- 
ment. 

Mason. Then I’ll have to watch my st-st-step. 
(All laugh.) 


(Dick enters r.i.) 

Dick. What’s the ha, ha? Am I missing some- 
thing ? 

Edgar. You never miss anything. 

Dick. (Goes l. to Mary Anne,) I missed a 
dance that was coming to me. 

Mary Anne. I’m sorry — it took me so long to 
dress. 

Dick. I’ll forgive you this time. 

Mary Anne. (To c., above table) I’ll get you 
some tea. 

(Trella and Lloyd to window l.v.) 

Dick. Thanks. (He goes l. Mary Anne goes 
over for tea and sandwiches. Her manner is full of 
suppressed excitement.) 

Mary Anne. One (Holds up lump of sugar.) 

Dick. Two. It’s getting close to us. 

Trella. (At window, looks down) My, that’s 
a jolly crowd ! 


READY Bugle. 


* 


104 GOLDEN DAYS 

Dick. They won’t be so jolly two days out on 
the ship. I know I won’t! 

Lloyd. I’m ready now for anything. 

Teddy. I’ve been ready for a month. 

Mrs. Kirkland, ( c .) Dickie, you must take 
care of all my boys. 

Dick. That’s a pretty big commission, Auntie 
Kirk, but I’ll do my best. 

Mary Anne. (Sadly) You haven’t much time 
now. 

Dick. (Cheerfully) No — not very much. 

(Pause.) 

Lloyd. Patty — don’t look so sad. 

Patty. I’m not sad — I may not like it — but I’m 
smiling. 

(Anyone who plays goes over to piano and rattles 
off “By the Sea.” Mary Anne and Mason, 
Patty and Teddy, Lloyd and Trella, Edgar 
and Annabelle begin to dance. As Mary 
Anne dances across to l. a bugle note is heard. 
All stop abruptly. The girls much affected, the 
boys apparently careless.) 

BUGLE. 

Dick. That’s it. ( Crosses to window.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. Now, boys, don’t forget to drop 
us a line whenever you can, all of you. We shall 
be interested in every step you take. 

Mason. Oh, we will ! 

Edgar. Sure ! 

Mrs. Kirkland. Where are your kits? 

Teddy. My people took mine to the station in the 
car. 

Lloyd. Mine, too. 

Mason. M-m-me, too. 

Trella. (At window) The boys are getting into 
line. 


GOLDEN DAYS 105 

(Mason and Edgar go over to Mary Anne and 
shake hands. Lloyd says good-bye to Mrs, 
Kirkland, Patty to Teddy.J 

Patty. Now, remember, Teddy, you telegraph 
me from wherever the boat leaves. 

(Dick says good-bye to Trella.J 

Mason. Good-bye, Marion. 

Mary Anne. Good-bye and good luck. 

(Lloyd goes over to Mary Anne. Mason, Ed- 
gar, Patty and Teddy form group r.J 

Lloyd. I want to be in on that, Marion. 

Mary Anne. I almost wish I were going with 
you. 

Lloyd. I guess we all wish that. 

(Teddy comes over to Mary Anne. Lloyd to r.) 

Mary Anne. Come back all covered with med- 
als, Teddy. 

Teddy. Wait till you see me. Pll look like the 
hero of a Mexican revolution. (They shake hands.) 

(Frank comes for farewell.) 

Mary Anne. Keep on smiling, Frank. 

Mrs. Kirkland. We’ll go down with you. 

(Dick goes to Mary AnneJ 

Mason. So long, Mary. 

(Teddy sings a few bars of “So Long, Mary.” 
Edgar joins at conclusion.) 


io6 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Dick. Well, good-bye, Mary Anne. 

Mary Anne. The time has come at last, hasn’t 
it? 

Dick. Yes. 

Teddy. Coming, Dick? 

Dick. I’ll be right with you. 

Lloyd. We’ll walk on slow. 

Teddy. Gee! T feel funny! 

Lloyd. So do I. 

Mason. I hope nobody cries at the station! 

Teddy. So do I. I’m close to it myself. 

(By this time , Patty, Teddy, Trella, Annabelle, 
Edgar, Lloyd, Frank, Mason and Mrs. Kirk- 
land are out of the room r., leaving Dick and 
Mary Anne. She is at window l. Dick 'moves 
near to divan down c .) 

Dick. (With poorly assumed cheerfulness , 
slowly) Our little make-believe romance is — is just 
ended, that’s all. 

Mary Anne. Ended ( Faintly ) Yes. 

Dick. (Bracing up) But we’ve had great times 
together, haven’t we? 

Mary Anne. Yes — we have. (Facing each 
other, they pause, and then start to speak together) 

Mary Anne and Dick . (Together) 

Well, I - 

Do you think 

Mary Anne. Oh, I — I interrupted you — didn’t 
I? 

Dick. No. I — I wasn’t going to say anything. 

Mary Anne. There’s so much one wants to say 
— one can’t think of — of anything. 

Dick. Except the bully good times we’ve had. 

Mary Anne. And how kind you’ve been. 

Dick. No, how kind — how — kind you've been. 


GOLDEN DAYS 


107 


Mary Anne, It seems — like a dream. I just 
can't realize that you’re going, 

Dick. (Cheerily) I can’t, either, but I’m on my 
way. 

Mary Anne. You’ll take good care of yourself 
over there? Promise me you will. 

Dick. Yes ! Sure ! You promise — too ! 

Mary Anne. Of course. (She pauses. In- 
stinctively they step closer to each other.) I shall 
be thinking of you. 

Dick. (Earnestly) And I shall be thinking of 
you, Mary Anne. 

Lloyd. ( Outside r.J You’ve got just three min- 
utes, Dickie. 

Dick. I’m coming. 

Mary Anne. Oh, wait — they mustn’t go till I’ve 
given you your presents. 

Dick. For me? 

(Mary Anne runs to window l.c. and brings down 
large box, unwrapped. They sit on the divan. 
Produces articles as she talks.) 

Mary Anne. A sweater, see? I made it myself. 

Dick. Oh, that’s great! 

Mary Anne. And the muffler — and mittens — I 
hope the thumbs are large enough. (Hands each 
separately.) 

Dick. Oh, sure! 

READY Band. 

Mary Anne. (Disclosing the big surprise) And 
here, a little kit bag and medicine chest, combined. 
See there, needles and thread. A pair of scissors. 
Things to shave with. (Points to bottles) That’s 
quinine; that is flaxseed, for poultices, you know. 
And put one in your eye if you get anything in it. 
This is peroxide, antiseptc. Isn’t it complete? 


io8 GOLDEN DAYS 

Dick. Wonderful! And you did all this for 
me ? 

Mary Anne. It was great fun! I tried tc think 
of everything. 

Dick. There’s only one thing you’ve forgotten. 
Something I should like above all these. 

Mary Anne. What? 

Dick. It won't be complete without Well, 

I’d like to have your picture. 

Mary Anne. (Flustered) A picture of me? 
Good gracious! Really? (She looks about help- 
lessly. Sees an ivory miniature of herself on the 
desk at l. Gets it.) Here, you may have this one. 
It belongs to Aunty, but she won’t mind. 

Dick. (Looks at it tenderly) Thank you, Mary 
Anne. I shall keep it with me always for good luck. 
(Puts it in inside pocket. Band far away on Fifth 
Avenue heard — “Stars and Stripes .” Dick con- 
tinues slowly) We won’t say good-bye — just au 
revoir. 

(Mary Anne hands him the package, all in one 
box. He holds it under one arm.) 

Mary Anne. Yes — just au revoir. (She puts 
her hand in his.) 

Teddy. (Outside) Come on, Dickie! 

WARN Curtain. 

(Dick looks at Mary Anne. He resists a desire 
to kiss her and crush her in his arms. Bends 
over and kisses her hand instead, turns and 
exits out of the door r. quickly — taking his pres- 
ents with him. Mary Anne stands dazed, 
looking at the hand which he has kissed. The 
sound of the music becomes louder. The par- 
ade is nearing the corner. Outside r., Mrs. 
Kirkland is heard as Dick passes her.) 


GOLDEN DAYS 


109 

Mrs. Kirkland. Au revoir, Dickie boy. Better 
hurry — you’ll be court-martialled. 

(Trella, Patty, Annabelle, Felice and Mrs. 
Kirkland enter r. and rush to windows. Mrs. 
Kirkland speaks to Mary AnneJ 

Mrs. Kirkland. Come, dear, we can see them 
from here splendidly. 

Patty. Isn’t it wonderful ? Dear boys ! 

(Band is now quite forte , a strong, stirring march 
tempo, as the girls stand at window.) 

Trella. (Excitedly at window r.c.) There’s 
Lloyd. He’s waving his hand to us ! (They wave 
their handkerchiefs in return.) 

Patty. ( After a pause, excitedly ) There’s 
Teddy — there’s Teddy! (Pause. They wave their 
handkerchiefs frantically. Then Patty wipes a 
tear from her eye.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. There’s Dick — look, Marion — 
there’s Dick! 

FIRST Ring. 

(Mary Anne, who has held her position, gazing 
vacantly at her hand , now brings it against her 
cheek and crumples down into a little heap be- 
fore the sofa. Her aunt goes to her, alarmed. 
The band is forte, and the others continue wav- 
ing their hands.) 

SECOND Ring. 

CURTAIN 

(At Picture, Mrs. Kirkland is beside Mary Anne, 
lifting her. Distant band is still heard.) 


no 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Note. — As the band begins faintly in the distance, 
let them play just the easy moving part of the 
march which is called the “trio” They can re- 
peat this and keep it up through the picture. 


ACT IV 


Scene: Same as Act I. June , 1919. 

Discovered: At rise Betsy is standing at the win - 
dow L., looking out l. She has a rag in her 
hand and a pail stands on the floor. Miss 
Slissy enters the door l. She has her sewing- 
bag on her arm, zvith materials, etc. 

Note : Make such changes in arrangement of 
things as might happen in two years. Have 
pail of water at l.ie. Letter in tobacco- jar on 
mantel. 

Miss Slissy. Where’s Mis’ Simmonds, Betsy? 

Betsy. Out to the hen-house, I think. 

Miss Slissy. I came to finish that new waist I’m 
making for her. Do you know what she done with 
the pattern? 

Betsy. It’s on the sewing machine upstairs. 

Miss Slissy. ( Goes r. to table) Mary Anne’s 
expected home to-day, ain’t she? 

Betsy. (Dusting ornament) Yep. 

Miss Slissy. Bessie Hamper — telephone opera- 
tor — said that Mrs. Kirkland had a long-distance 
call from New York sayin’ Mary Anne was on her 
way down here by automobile. Her ship got in 
early this morning from France. 

Betsy. (Nodding) Uh huh. 

Miss Slissy. It’s about time she was cornin’ 
home. She ain’t writ her mother™ l. of table 
ill 


1 12 


GOLDEN DAYS 


kJ— very often since she’s been away. Jed Dooley, 
the rural delivery man, was tellin’ me only yester- 
day that he’s only brought her ma seven letters 
from France in a year and a half, and three of ’em 
was censored. 

Betsy. She had eight. 

Miss Slissy. Well, one more or less don’t make 
much difference. Of course I ain’t sayin’ it wasn’t 
patriotic of her to go over with that Sal army unit 
and help nurse, but I do think she ought to have 
writ her ma oftener and told her more gossip. 

Betsy. She wasn’t nursin’. 

Miss Slissy. What was she doin’, then? 

Betsy. She was in a cantoon, or somethin’. 

Miss Slissy. Well, it’s all the same. One gives 
’em medicine to make ’em well and the other gives 
’em chocolates to make ’em sick again. I done my 
bit right here at home, singin’ at benefits and one 
thing or another. (Betsy sighs.) What’s the mat- 
ter with you, Betsy, you’re lookin’ kinda droopy 
lately ? 

Betsy. I dunno. I guess it’s because I’m sleepy. 
(Sits.) I had to sit up till half-past nine last night 
waiting for Mrs. Kirkland. 

Miss Slissy. (To c.) Yes, there’s nothin’ like 
losing sleep to cause a girl to fade. You’d better be 
careful, ’cause you’re the kind that fades early. 

Betsy. What are the kind that don’t? 

Miss Slissy. Well, take me, for instance. I 
looked just the same ten years ago as I do now. 

Betsy. (Innocently) Wasn’t that too bad ! 

Miss Slissy. What’s that ? Huh ! (Exits r.) 

(Betsy looks out of the window, smiles and nods to 
someone, and coyly wipes the window ledge 
with the rag. Mrs. Simmonds enters l. The 
door stands open, , set back with a stone.) 


GOLDEN DAYS 


ii3 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Crosses to far r .—puts flow- 
ers on organ) I do nothing but drive that speckled 
rooster out of the geranium bed. There he was 
struttin’ through it for the seventh time to-day. 
(Looks at Betsy, who works c.) Mary Anne hasn’t 
telephoned again, has she? (Front of table r. to 

R.C.J 

Betsy, (c.) No’m. 

Mrs. Simmonds. She ought to be here by now. 
I declare I’m getting so nervous I can hardly keep 
still a minute 

Betsy. Miss Slissy’s upstairs. 

Mrs. Simmonds. What does she want? 

Betsy. That new waist she’s makin’. 

Mrs. Simmonds. If she could only make it with- 
out havin’ to try it on me so much. I’d be thankful. 
She gets me standin’ so I’ve got to listen, and nearly 
talks me to death. (Crosses R. and around table.) 

Betsy. I suppose she wants to be here when 
Mary Anne comes. ( Goes l.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. There’s no “supposing” about 
that. Wipe off the chairs, Betsy. Sister Maria 
will be down in a minute, and if she noticed there 
was any dust on anything it would give me nervous 
prostration, she’s so neat. (Betsy jabs at the chair 
standing l. and misses it. Mrs. Simmonds goes 
above table l.) The chairs, I said, child. I didn’t 
ask you to fan flies. What does possess you to fuss 
around that window ? Is it Henry again ? 

Betsy. Yes-sum. 

Mrs. Simmonds. What’s that fool hired-man 
doin’ that you can’t even turn your head this way 
when I’m talkin’ to you ? 

Betsy. Smilin’. 

Mrs. Simmonds. He’s got just about enough 
brains as would keep that speckled rooster from 
falling off the fence, and no more. (To c.) 


1 1 4 GOLDEN DAYS 

Betsy. (Wipes chair , kneeling , hut manages to 
keep an eye out of the window) A speckled rooster 
ain't so bad, scratchin’ around makin’ a livin' for a 
family. 

Mrs. Simmonds. (c.) Sometimes, Betsy, you 
say things so idiotic that they almost sound sen- 
sible. 

Betsy. (Pulls chair to her and rubs the top part 
and the seat) Vm absent-minded in the spring of 
the year. 

Mrs. Simmonds. ’Tain’t only in the spring, child. 
(To c.) Though I do notice that you’re slacker 
than usual in the last few days. What’s the rea- 
son? 

Betsy. (Drawls, staring out l.) I dunno. 

Mrs. Simmonds. I think you’re lookin’ at it 
now, and I don’t intend to stand any more of it. 
(She moves to window l.c. and calls off l. Pulls 
Betsy to c. Betsy works above table l.) Henry! 
Stop that hoein’ and go out to the barn and clean 
off the horses till I tell you stop. An' if the horses 
is cleaned off already, clean off the cows. Do some- 
thin’ to take you out of sight of this house. (To 
BetsyJ Now mebbe you can ’tend to your work. 
(Crosses to c.) 

Betsy. Yes-sum. (She rubs again at l. chair of 
table l., then pauses, thinking .) Mrs. Simmonds, 
if you was a single girl, and had loved a man for 
two years and he loved you, and wouldn’t ask you, 
what would you do ? 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Wearily sarcastic) I’d take 
him by the ear and souse his head in the rain-water 
barrel till he did ask me. ( Crosses down r. Turns 
to go as Mrs Kirkland enters rJ 

(Betsy looks at Mrs. Simmonds a few moments, 
then out the window; then with determination 
throws down the cloth and exits l.) 


GOLDEN DAYS 115 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Enter r.) No sign of Mary 
Anne yet? 

Mrs. Simmonds. None, and she ought to have 
been here half an hour ago. 

(Mrs. Kirkland crosses to window.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. (c.) Land! How I have 
missed that girl! I’ll never let her go away from 
me so long again. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Sits L.j Amanda, did Mary 
Anne ever mention Dickie Stanhope in any of her 
letters ? 

Mrs. Simmonds. Dick Stanhope ? No — why? 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Sits l.J I was just puzzled, 
that’s all. Her early letters to me were full of his 
name — and then — suddenly — not a word about him. 

(Miss Slissy enters r.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. Land, I dunno. I can’t under- 
stand her sometimes. She doesn’t seem to know 
her own mind. She carried on for months to get 
Billy Barclay to ask her, and when she could have 
him, didn’t want him. 

(Mrs. Kirkland warns her that Miss Slissy is in 
the room.) 

Miss Slissy. Talkin’ about Mary Anne? 

Mrs. Simmonds. ( Crosses to l.) No, we wasn’t, 
Sairey Applegate Slissy. 

Miss Slissy. Goodness knows, I’ll be glad to 
see Mary Anne when she gets here. I s’pose she’ll 
have a wonderful lot of tales to tell. (Mrs. Sim- 
monds about to sit in chair l. of table r. To Mrs. 


ii6 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Simmonds ) Do you mind seein’ if this waist is 
the right width across the back? 

Mrs. Simmonds. I s’pose not, though you meas- 
ured me twice yesterday. 

(Miss Slissy moves over to Mrs. Simmonds, who 
rises and turns for her.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. Do you wear those felt slip- 
pers for comfort, Miss Slissy ? 

Miss Slissy. (Puttering with the waist) Well, 
I hope you don’t think, Mrs. Kirkland, that I wear 
’em for any dishonorable purpose. Gracious me, 
Mrs. Simmonds ! I believe you grow broader 
through the shoulders right along. I’m afraid I’ll 
have to set a piece in. (Pins the waist to Mrs. 
Simmonds as she measures.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. Ouch! Don’t puncture my 
spine. I may need it. 

Miss Slissy. Excuse me. Stout people is so 
near the surface! Anyhow — (To Mrs. KirklandJ 
— I’m so used to sticking myself I think other folks 
don’t mind it. (Laughs and continues her work.) 
I always wondered if Mary Anne went to France 
on account of any disappointment in particular. 

Mrs. Kirkland. That’s nothing that need worry 
you nor the village, Miss Slissy. 

Miss Slissy. Please stand still, Mis’ Simmonds. 
I almost stuck you again. 

(Betsy enters from l. over the porch. She is wet 
and excited.) 

Betsy. (Breathlessly) It’s all right, Mis’ Sim- 
monds! It’s all right! (To l.cJ 
Mrs. Simmonds. What’s all right? 

Betsy. Henry says he’ll marry me, but I had to 


GOLDEN DAYS 


n 7 

duck him in the rain-water barrel twice before he’d 
promise. (Wrings water out of her sleeves. Mrs. 
Kirkland laughs and rises.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Horrified) For the land 
salces, she did it ! ( Steps.) She actually went and 

did it, just because I told her to! 

Betsy. ( Crosses to c.) He kicked somethin’ 
awful, but I held him. Don’t you reckon I’d ought 
to have a new dress to get married in? 

Mrs. Simmonds. I s’pose so, child. You and 
Henry might as well get the agony over. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Smiling) That means I’m 
due for a wedding present. What would you like 
me to give you, Betsy? 

Betsy. I’d like a silk nightgown — silk all over! 
(Turns and speaks to Miss Slissy J Thursday is 
my afternoon off, if you want to fit me then. 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Crosses to table l.) Well, just 
take Miss Slissy to your room — to finish bastin’ my 
waist. You can have her time for the rest of the 
afternoon. 

READY Horn. 

(Betsy goes r. Miss Slissy follows.) 

Miss Slissy. (At r. in intense undertone) Betsy, 
where is that rain-water barrel ? 

Betsy. (Confidential tone) Back of the wood- 
shed. Why? 

Miss Slissy. I want you to show me how you 
done it. (Betsy exits r., followed by Miss Slissy.J 

(Slight pause. Horn l.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. There’s a motor now! 

Mrs. Simmonds. (c.) Perhaps it’s Mary Anne. 
(Goes below table l.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. ( Goes to window c.) They’ve 


ii8 


GOLDEN DAYS 


stopped at the gate. There’s Patty, Teddy, Billy — 
Here they all are ! No, I don’t see Marion. 

Mrs. Simmonds. I’m surprised at Billy Barclay 
coming here ! 

Mrs. Kirkland. I hope nothing’s happened to 
detain her. 

Mrs. Simmonds. I hope not. 

(Mrs. Kirkland exits out the door l. There are 
confused sounds of greeting outside l. Mrs. 
Kirkland enters with Elaine, Trella, Lloyd 
and Patty J 

Mrs. Simmonds. What on earth is it all about? 

(Mrs. Kirkland and girls to r.c., below table. Ad 
lib.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. Where’s my Mary Anne? 
Patty. (l.c.J She’s a mile or two behind us. 
Lloyd. Charley Mason is bringing her in his car. 
Trella. You ought to see Charlie. He’s grown 
so masterful. 

Patty. She doesn’t know we’re here. The others 
drove around the back in Edgar’s car. 

(Teddy and Billy enter h.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. Well, of all things! 

Billy. Hello, Mrs. Simmonds! 

Mrs. Simmonds. How do you do, Billy? I 
haven’t seen you in a long time. Nor you, Teddy. 

Teddy. (Crosses to c.) We couldn’t resist the 
temptation to wish ourselves on you folks in Farm- 
dale when it meant surprising Marion! 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Delighted but flustered) 


GOLDEN DAYS 


1 19 

Goodness me, I haven’t got a thing in the house fit 
to eat for a surprise, except a 

Lloyd. ( Down r. of c.) Don’t worry about that, 
Mrs. Simmonds. We’ll sneak down to the village 
and get a couple of gallons of ice cream and some 
cake. (Crosses to window.) 

Trella. You’d better hurry and get the car out 
of sight, so Mary Anne won’t see you. 

Lloyd. (Lazily) Aw, we’ve got plenty of time. 

Teddy. (Crosses to window) We’ll bring the 
eats in the back way. Come on, fellows. (They 
exit l.2 — Billy, Teddy and Lloyd . ) 

HORN Ready. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Has anyone seen or heard any- 
thing of Dick? 

Trella. (r. corner) Well — ah 

Patty. ( Crosses to c., hesitates ) Oh, yes, Dick’s 
in New York — been there for four days. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Have you seen him? 

(The girls are trying to keep a secret.) 

Patty. Yes — we saw him — for just a few mo- 
ments — 

Mrs. Kirkland. Did he (A horn is heard 

in the distance.) 

HORN. 

Patty. ( Crosses to l.) There’s Marion now ! 
The boys will just about make it. 

Mrs. Simmonds. Good gracious, I’m .so excited! 
I don’t know if I’m standin’ on my head or my 
heels ! 

Mrs. Kirkland. Bring the others in through the 
kitchen, and don’t come until I give the signal. 

Mrs. Simmonds. You can stay right there in the 
dining room, if you girls want to hide. (Exits l. 
window.) 


120 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Trella. (To Mrs. Kirkland,) Don’t give the 
signal till the boys get back. (The whirr of the 
motor is heard off l.J 

Elaine. (To Mrs. Kirkland,) Don’t you let 
on now, Mrs. Kirkland. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Not a word ! 

(The girls exit r. Mrs. Kirkland stands c.) 

Mary Anne. (Off) Oh, Mumsey — Mumsey — ! 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Off, emotionally) My little 
chickadee — my little lambkin! (They enter l. and 
embrace .) 

Mary Anne. Aunty! (She runs to her.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. Well, you dear little darling! 

Mary Anne. Aunty, aunty, aunty ! Mumsie ! 
(Goes to mother again.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. ( Arms about her) Mary 
Anne, how could you go away and leave your mother 
all this time? 

Mary Anne. (Consoling her) I’m here now, 
darling — I’m here, I’m here ! 

Mrs. Simmonds. But if anything had happened 
to you 

Mary Anne. (Smiling) Oh, I felt so little 
compared to the big things going on around me, I 
just knew a bullet would have hard work to find me. 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Hysterically) Oh, darling, 
you were near the bullets ? 

Mary Anne. It was all in the game, Mumsie, 
but I’m home again. 

Mrs. Simmonds. I can scarcely believe it’s my 
Mary Anne. 

Mary Anne. Oh, but it is! (Laughs.) And 
two pounds more of me than there was when I went 
away. 

Mrs. Simmonds. Bless you! 



Golden Days” See page 125 





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1 







GOLDEN DAYS 121 

Mrs. Kirkland. We’ve been proud of you, dear, 
very proud. 

Mary Anne. Not of me. I really did next to 
nothing. 

Mrs. Simmonds. You just say that. 

Mrs. Kirkland. It seems as if you had been 
gone for years and years. 

Mary Anne. Two years, Auntie — two wonder- 
ful, terrible years. ( Quick change to lighter man- 
ner) Mumsie, I’m hungry! May I have something 
to eat? 

Mrs. Simmonds. Yes, we’re going to have 

(A cough from Mrs. Kirkland reminds her not to 
tell about the guests.) I’ll get you a slice of bread 
and preserves. 

Mary Anne. Quince! Good old-fashioned 
quince ! 

Mrs. Simmonds. I just opened a jar of it this 
morning. You talk to your aunt. I’ll bring it to 
you. Bless your little heart, but it’s good to have 
you home again! (Exits, almost weeping with joy.) 

Mary Anne. Good gracious! Charlie Mason’s 
outside. I’d forgotten all about him. 

Mrs. Kirkland. He’ll find his way in. Don’t 
worry. 

Mary Anne. I want you to tell me every single 
thing that has happened since I went away. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Affectionately) Dear child, 
just having you here makes the world seem normal 
once more. Well, Teddy Farnum and Lloyd Hen- 
derson have been home a long time. 

Mary Anne. Yes, Charlie told me that. He 
came back with them. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Teddy and Patty are married. 

Mary Anne. Married? Oh, I’m* dying to see 
them ! 


122 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Mrs. Kirkland. Trella and Lloyd are engaged, 
and so are Billie and Elaine Jewett. 

Mary Anne. Yes, I knew that. 

Mrs. Kirkland. But not all of our boys came 
back. You’ve ‘heard about Frank? 

Mary Anne. (Nods) I saw him being brought 
in — poor Frank! — his very first day in action, too. 

Mrs. Kirkland. His mother has been very 
brave. (The shadow of this memory makes them 
pause for a moment.) 

Mary Anne. Two years since I went abroad, 
Auntie. Two wonderful, terrible years! 

Mrs. Kirkland.. You were such a child. We’ve 
found it hard not to reproach ourselves for ever let- 
ting you go into the midst of such horrors. 

Mary Anne. But you couldn’t help yourselves! 
I had to go to France, something made me, and now 
it’s all over, it’s a deep and sacred memory to carry 
with me as long as I live. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Slowly feeling her way) 
There’s one friend we haven’t mentioned yet — 
Dick. You never ran across him, I suppose? 

Mary Anne. (Shakes her head) It was a long 
time before I even had news of him. At first I used 
to picture our meeting somewhere on a dusty road 
and my crying out, “Vive 1’America” in the kind 
of French we used to practice when we rode to- 
gether in the park, and then, when he came over to 
see who it was, I’d turn and laugh and say, “Don’t 
you know me, Dick? It’s Mary Anne!” (Slight 
pause.) Once I dreamed of finding him wounded 
out there in No Man’s Land, and of bending over 
him, saying words of comfort and love 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Startled) “Love,” Mary 
Anne? 

Mary Anne. (Bravely) Yes, Aunty, for I did 
love Dick Stanhope with all my heart. I knew it 


GOLDEN DAYS 


123 


after he’d gone away that day at the farewell dance. 
And even though he doesn’t care for me, has never 
cared 

Mrs. Kirkland. But how do you know he has 
never cared? 

Mary Anne. A letter finally reached me from 
him after months of waiting. I couldn’t have en- 
dured the humiliation of that letter — if my life 
hadn’t been so full of the sufferings of others just 
then, that it gave me small time to think about my- 
self. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Why, what on earth could he 
have said to you ? 

Mary Anne. He wrote he was very sorry our 
little game had turned out so unfortunately for me. 
(Mrs. Kirkland makes gesture of doubt.) Yes — 
he did, Aunty. You see, he must have guessed that 
I had grown to think too much of him, and when 
he didn’t (Buries her face in her hands.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. But such a letter doesn’t seem 
like Dick at all, not the boy I knew so well. I can’t 
understand it. One thing is certain, it must not be 
allowed to spoil your home-coming now. 

Mary Anne. (Looks up, bravely) It won’t — it 
shan’t. I’ve only this to say, Aunty: I couldn’t be 
friends with Dick again, and if he ever comes here, 
I don’t want to talk with him, or even see him. I — I 
couldn’t bear it. 

(Charlie Mason enters l.i. He is now very mili- 
tary and very masterful. He crosses with a 
firm step direct to Mrs. Kirkland.,) 

Mason. Hello, Mrs. Kirkland! 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Rising) Why, hello, Charlie! 

Mary Anne. Lieutenant Mason, now, Aunty. 


124 GOLDEN DAYS 

Mrs. Kirkland. Good gracious, what a respon- 
sibility ! 

Mason. Well, some men just have to be leaders. 

(The crowd outside r. in dining room begin to sing 
the song with which they enter in a moment. 
They form a line, hands on each other's shoul- 
ders, in the position they retain on entering. 
Tune, “John Brozvn’s Body.”) 

Mary Anne. Why, what’s that? 

Mrs. Kirkland. Goodness, I’d almost forgotten ! 
Crowd. (Lively, march tempo) 

We come to welcome Mary Anne from far 
across the sea. 

She traveled over there to give us chocolates 
and tea, 

And now we’re just as happy as we possibly 
can be, 

For Mary Anne is home ! 

(They enter r. in line, each with the left hand on 
shoulder of the one in front and keeping time 
with the feet.) 

Glory, glory, Ukulele, 

Glory, glory, Ukulele, 

Glory, glory, Ukulele, 

For Mary Anne is home ! 

(This chorus carries them once around Mary Anne, 
who stands amazed at first and then ad libs, 
names of the various ones. They smile and 
wave their hands to her. She is in the center 
and utters little “Oh!” and other ejaculations 
of surprise and joy. At the end of the song 
they break into a yell and crowd around Mary 


GOLDEN DAYS 


125 

Anne. When the yell and break come, she 
clasps Patty in her arms and the others crowd 
toward them, Edgar and Annabelle included. 
Mrs. Simmonds enters r. with large floral 
doughnut . Teddy gets it.) 

Mary Anne. Oh! — oh! — Patty! Billy! Elaine! 
Teddy ! (Then comes the yell and rush to her.) 

Omnes. Welcome, Marion! Welcome home 
again ! Etc. 

Mary Anne. Oh, you dear, dear, sweet friends, 
every one of you! 

Teddy. (Bearing the floral offering. He is very 
oratorical ) Gangway ! Gangway ! Allow me, on 
behalf of these few members of the old 79th and 
others, to present the little doughnut girl with a 
floral doughnut, in appreciation of the many dough- 
nuts we received at your hands and those of your 
lovely sisters in France. ( Cheers.) Said dough- 
nuts coming, as they did, at a time when we did not 
have the dough to buy a nut of any kind. (Big 
laugh, cheer, etc. Teddy is c. to Mary Anne.,) 

Edgar. The nut is mixing his doughnuts. 

Teddy. With our love and the love of every boy 
who went to France. (He hands her the floral 
piece.) 

Crowd. Hear ! Hear ! 

Mary Anne. Oh, it’s just too sweet for words! 

The Crowd. Speech! Speech! (Cries of “Yes 
— speech!” etc.) 

Mary Anne. I can’t make a speech; my heart 

is too full (Her mother comes down.) Mum- 

sey, isn’t it beautiful? (Showing her emblem, 
weeping, goes to mother. Mason works over to l.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. Goodness, child, I’m so choked 
up I can’t say a word. (She takes floral piece.) 


126 GOLDEN DAYS 

I’ll pu* it on the mantel where everyone can see it. 
(Goes up c.) 

Mary Anne. (To Mrs. Kirkland,) Auntie, 
why didn’t you tell me? 

Mrs. Kirkland. (To Mary and up to Mrs. 
Simmonds ) And spoil the surprise? 

Mary Anne. (To Patty,) Patty, you dear. I 
want to congratulate you and Teddy. (Teddy is 
now r. with Patty. Mary Anne gives each a 
hand.) I’m just as pleased as I can be. 

Teddy. (Points to Patty ) Congratulate her, 
Marion. She had a hard struggle to land me. 

(Mary Anne laughs and goes over to Billy 
and Elaine, who are together.) 

Mary Anne. And Billy and Elaine ! I’m so glad 
you came here together. I knew you were in 
France, Billy. You were billeted within a quarter 
of a mile of “Old Sal” once, but I did not find it 
out until after you had gone. 

Billy. If I had only known about you, Mary 
Anne, I’d have risked being shot at sunrise just to 
shake hands with you. 

(Mary Anne laughs and pauses, looking at Elaine. 
There is a moment's hesitation and then both 
girls fling themselves into each other's arms 
and kiss.) 

Teddy. Hear, hear ! 

(All laugh. Mary Anne moves a little up to Trel- 
la and Lloyd.,) 

Mary Anne. I saw you when I got off the boat. 


GOLDEN DAYS 


127 

I felt then as if I wanted to kiss every one of you. 

Lloyd. (Shouts) Do it now. 

Teddy. (With oratorical enthusiasm) Obey that 
impulse. (All laugh as Mary Anne kisses Trella 
and pecks at Lloyd’s cheek.) 

Edgar. Repetez vous, Mademoiselle. (The others 
crozvd around her. Miss Slissy comes down.) 

Miss Slissy. Well, Mary Anne 

Mary Anne. ( Runs to Miss Slissy, down r. and 
to Betsy, who has been in background with Miss 
Slissy,) Miss Slissy! And Betsy! It isn’t com- 
plete without you. 

Miss Slissy. Thanks, Mary Anne. I will say 
I’ve done my best to keep your mother cheered up. 

Betsy. The 'hired man’s quite well, thank you. 

Mrs. Kirkland. It’s wonderful to have all you 
boys home again. You’ve done so much for us. 
Your country will remember you for a long, long 
time. 

Teddy. That’s right. They remembered my 
grandfather for sixty years. He had a civil war 
claim that was settled week before last. 

Mrs. Simmonds. Well, supper’s ready if you’ll 
go in and have chairs. Betsy and I will do our best 
to wait on you. (To Slissy. ) It’s all spread out on 
the dining-room table, Sairey, and if you’d care to 
help out some 

Miss Slissy. I’m just the one to call on. Good- 
ness knows I’ve had enough experience at church 
fairs and one thing or another. ( She follows 
Mrs. Simmonds and, Betsy out rJ 

Mrs. Kirkland. And put the floral-piece in the 
middle of the table. 

Teddy. Let me bear it hence. 

Billy. No, let me. 

Edgar. My strong right arm is rusting from dis- 
use. (All struggle for possession of floral piece.) 


128 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Teddy. (Wins out and holds floral-piece high.) I 
am master of ceremonies and custodian of the dough- 
nut. 

Mary Anne. Be careful of it, boys. ('Elaine 
near window l. signals to Dick outside.) 

Lloyd. I brought it down from New York. 

('Patty and Trella makes signs to Elaine, who 
comes to Mary Anne. The hoys are moving 
to r. with floral-piece ad lihing badinage.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. Come, everyone. (She exits r. 
the boys following. Patty and Trella go r., 
Elaine detains Mary AnneJ 

Elaine, (c.) We’ll be there in a moment. 

Patty. Don’t be long. (Mary Anne looks at 
Elaine curiously.) 

Elaine. We won’t be. (Patty makes a sign to 
Elaine that someone is outside l. Elaine gets this 
and the girls exit r. After they are off , Elaine 
speaks.) Marion, I want to tell you how surprised — 
how overwhelmed I was when I learned the truth, 
and when I’d been so hateful to you always 

Mary Anne. The truth? 

Elaine. About my father’s rescue from losing 
every dollar he possessed. I thought at the time it 
was Billy’s father who was helping him, but I after- 
wards found out it was your aunt — and that she 
had done it because you had asked her to — for my 
sake. I can never thank you enough. I’ve been 
so sorry and ashamed. Billy knows I have. (She 
bows her head.) 

Mary Anne. Don’t speak of that, Elaine. Every- 
thing is all right with you and Billy now. You’re go- 
ing to be happy. And I’m so glad for both of you ! 

Elaine. (As she and Marion go toward dining- 
room together) And our wish, Marion — Billy’s 


GOLDEN DAYS 


129 

and mine — is to see you happy also. And — we be- 
lieve you’re going to be. 

(They exit together at right. Immediately Mrs. 
Kirkland, enters at r. and crosses agitatedly 
toward window, then down to door l. expec- 
tantly . Enter Dick l.) 

Dick, Hello, Aunty Kirk ! 

Mrs. Kirkland. I thought that was your car I 
saw turning into the road, Dickie Stanhope. 

Dick. I surprised you, didn’t I? 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Embarrassed) Well, yes, you 
did. Mary Anne has company and 

Dick. (Eagerly) She’s here? 

Mrs. Kirkland. Yes. 

Dick. Good ! Which way do I go to find her? 

Mrs. Kirkland. (In pretended surprise) Oh, 
do you want to see her? 

Dick. Do I want to see her? I should say I 
do, and pick a bone with her for not answering my 
letters. I tried to get to her in France — but you 
know how things were there, not a chance in a 
thousand. Where is she? (Starts towards dining- 
room.) 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Coming between) I’m sorry, 
Dick, but I’m afraid you can’t see Mary Anne to- 
day. 

Dick. You mean she’s ill? 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Slowly) No, I mean I don’t 
think she cares to see you. 

Dick. (Horrified) Aunty Kirk! But why 
shouldn’t she? What have I done? 

Mrs. Kirkland, You wrote her a letter that hurt 
her terribly. 

Dick. (Downcast) Then my letter was the 
cause of her break with Billy? 


130 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Mrs. Kirkland. No, of course not. She broke 
with Billy before you left for France. 

Dick. Then how could my letter have hurt her 
so much? 

Mrs. Kirkland. Because of the insinuation it 
carried. You said you were sorry you? had ever 
played that game together. 

Dick. (Impatient) No, not that letter. I wrote 
that one in France. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Well, that’s the only one she 
ever received. 

Dick. What? Why, no! I wrote first from 
Canada — a long letter — before we sailed. In it 
I told Mary Anne that I loved her. I thought that 
letter had fallen into Billy’s hands and was the 
cause of the quarrel between them. So I wrote, 
then, I was sorry 

Mrs. Kirkland. You wrote Mary Anne first 
from Canada? Where did you send that letter? 

Dick. Here. 

Mrs. Kirkland. Wait a minute. (She goes to 
door r. and looks out, beckons to her sister.) 
Amanda! Come here a minute. (Returns to Dick.) 
I’m almost sure she never received that Canada let- 
ter. (Mrs. Simmonds enters r. Betsy enters after 
her.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. (To Betsy, pointing l.) Now, 

Betsy, it’s right there in the cabinet (Sees Dick. 

Mrs. Simmonds goes c.) Oh, how do you do Mr. 
Stanhope? I’m right glad to see you. (Betsy 
looks for cake-knife in cabinet l.) 

Dick. How do you do, Mrs. Simmonds? 

Mrs. Kirkland. Amanda ! f Betsy works over l. j 
Do you remember Mary Anne’s receiving a letter 
from Mr. Stanhope before she went to France? 

Mrs. Simmonds. (Shaking her head) Not that 
she ever told me. I believe she’d have told me if 


GOLDEN DAYS 


131 

she did. (To DickJ Did you write her one? 
(Dick nods.) And addressed it 

Dick. Marion Simmonds, Farmdale — yes. (To 
Mrs. Kirkland .) I remember the letter well. It 
was written on hotel stationery from Quebec. It 
was a patent sort of an affair like a post card. Had 
a picture of the hotel and a waterfall on it. 

Mrs. Simmonds. No, I don’t think she 

Betsy. ( Coming c.) I got that letter. 

Mrs. Kirkland. You ! 

Betsy. I thought it was an advertisement with 
printin’ on the inside. It’s in the tobacco jar on the 
mantel. ("Mrs. Kirkland goes to tobacco jar.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. What in the world did you put 
it there for? 

Betsy. Well, you told me to. 

("Mrs. Kirkland gets letter and brings it to Dick.J 

Mrs. Simmonds. / did? (To Betsy. ) What 
do you mean. I “told” you to? 

Betsy. I came to you and said, here’s an adver- 
tisement letter for Mary Anne, shall I give it to her? 
And you said “Certainly not, stick it in Mr. Sim- 
monds’ old tobacco- jar on the mantel shelf. What 
does anybody want with a letter?” 

Mrs. Simmonds. Land sakes, I can’t say a thing 
to that girl that she doesn’t take me literal. ( Crosses 
r. and Betsy moves above table rJ 

Dick. That’s it all right. (Hands letter back to 
Mrs. Kirkland.,) 

Mrs. Kirkland. (To Dick,) And you said in 
that letter — all you’ve told me? 

Dick. More. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Takes Dick down stage) 
Then you clear out. Hide around the corner of the 
porch. I’ll send for Marion. Betsy, you slip in and 


GOLDEN DAYS 


132 

tell Marion quietly that I ‘have some news for her 
and want to see her at once. Don’t mention Mr. 
Stanhope nor say anything else. 

Betsy. No’m! 

Mrs. Kirkland. And don’t come back. 

Mrs. Simmonds. (To Mrs. KirklandJ Don’t 
say that or she’ll stay away forever. (To Betsy.J 
She means right away. (Pushing Betsy off R.J 

Betsy. Yes’sum. (Exits r.J 

Dick. (Going l.) If there’s no hope for me 
after she’s read that letter, Aunty Kirk, step to the 
window and give me the tip. I’ll climb the hedge 
and vanish. 

Mrs. Kirkland. You’d better not vanish too 
soon. 

Dick. (Confidential manner) I’ll be right at the 
corner — by the rain-water barrel. (Exits l.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. Land! I wonder if he knows 
about Betsy? 

Mrs. Kirkland. Perhaps Mary Anne should 
have given him that treatment long ago. (She 
laughs.) 

Mrs. Simmonds. (To c.) Don’t talk foolish- 
ness ! 

Mrs. Kirkland. Amanda, when Mary Anne 
comes down try to look as though nothing had hap- 
pened. 

Mrs. Simmonds. I’ll go back to the young folks 
in the dining-room, I don’t know a thing. (Exits 
r. Outside r. she meets Mary Anne.) Go on in 
the sitting-room, child. Your auntie wants to talk 
to you. (Mary Anne enters r.J 

Mary Anne. What is it, Aunty? 

WARN Curtain. Ready Chorus. 

Mrs. Kirkland. (Handing Mary Anne the 
letter.) Postmarked Quebec, Can., September 28th, 
1917. 


GOLDEN DAYS 


133 

Mary Anne. (Recognizes hand-writing) A let- 
ter from Dick — to me? 

Mrs. Kirkland. Betsy thought it was a post- 
card and stuck it in the tobacco- jar, and there it’s 
been ever since. 

Mary Anne. No? 

(She sits l. of table r. reading the letter. Mrs. 
Kirkland steals out of door r. Mary Anne’s 
face brightens as she proceeds. Dick enters l. 
and watches her. She, delighted zvith the let- 
ter, gives an ecstatic exclamation without know- 
ing he is there.) 

Mary Anne. (Looking at letter, dreamily) Dick! 

Dick. (Hearing his name, speaks quietly from 
across the room) Yes? 

Mary Anne. (Slowly rises and turns toward 
him. Speaks in half whisper) It’s a dream. You’re 
not real. 

Dick. I’m the realest boy that ever came back 
from the trenches. (Involuntarily she attempts to 
conceal letter behind her.) Yes, I know. I was 
here in the room when Auntie Kirk found that tardy 
letter. You believe what I said in it? 

Mary Anne. (Afraid to accept her happiness) 
It was written a long time ago, Dick. You must 
have changed since then. 

Dick. Is that just your way of letting me know 
you have changed towards me — that you cannot for- 
give that other stupid letter? (Mary Anne does 
not answer.) Mary Anne, has it all gone by forever? 

Mary Anne. (Earnestly) Hasn’t it? 

Dick. Not with me: There’s nothing I wouldn’t 
do to bring the old days back. Why do you look 
away from me? What are you thinking of, Mary 
Anne? 


T 34 


GOLDEN DAYS 


Mary Anne. (Softly) Shall I tell you? 

Dick. Please. 

Mary Anne. Well, then, I’m thinking of a little 
secret poem I used to repeat when I first went to 
France, looking up at the stars, at night wondering 
where you were. 

Dick. What poem was that? 

Mary Anne. A poem in three words. (Softly, 
looking up as at the stars.) Je vous aime , Dick. 
Je vous aime, Je vous aime! (I love you, Dick, I 
love you, I love you.) 

RING. 

Dick. (Wild with joy) Mary Anne, T e vous 
adore ! (Embrace. Crowd off sings, “Glory, 
glory, ukulele ,” etc.) 


CURTAIN 


MUSIC CUES 
ACT II 


DANCE MUSIC CUES FOR BALL-ROOM 
MUSIC OFF L. 

No. i. 

At rise , play first strain only , the last sixteen bars 
heard off l. 

No. 2. 

Music off l. 

WARN on Elaine’s entrance. 

PLAY on “ — about half -past six.” 

STOP on “ — doesn’t even know how to dress.” 
Applause off l. 

No. 3. 

READY on Mary Anne’s entrance. 

PLAY on “Mr. Teddy Farnum , our Teddy-Bear.” 
STOP on “ — sultry day for June.” 

“Will you take me in?” Applause off l. 
CONTINUES on “Oh! Teddy , you think you 
will have to.” 

STOP on “A hors de Combat. Oh , a fight.” 

No. 4. 

READY on “I forgot your fan.” 

PLAY on “What was it you were saying?” 

STOP on “Runs a tea-shop by day.” 

No. 5. 

READY on “Punch, punch, who’ll have punch?” 
PLAY on “Just because you brought her to the 
party.” 

STOP on CURTAIN . 


DOROTHY’S NEIGHBORS. 

A brand new comedy in four acts, by Marie Doran, author of “The 
New Co-Ed,” “Tempest and Sunshine,” and many other successful 
plays. 4 males, 7 females. The scenes are extremely easy to 
arrange; two plain interiors and one exterior, a garden, or, if neces- 
sary, the two interiors will answer. Costumes modern. Plays 2J4 
hours. 

The story is about vocational training, a subject now widely dis- 
cussed; also, the distribution of large wealth. 

Back of the comedy situation and snappy dialogue, there is good 
logic and a sound moral in this pretty play, which is worthy the 
attention of the experienced amateur. It is a clean, wholesome play, 
particularly suited to high school production, Price, 30 Cents. 


MISS SOMEBODY ELSE. 

A modern play in four acts by Marion Short, author of “The 
Touchdown,” etc. 6 males, 10 females. Two interior scenes. Cos- 
tumes modern. Plays 2 % hours. •**'' 

This delightful .comedy has gripping dramatic moments, unusual 
character types, a striking and original plot and is essentially modem 
in theme and treatment. The story concerns the advetures of Con- 
stance Darcy, a multi-millionaire’s young daughter. Constance em- 
barks on a trip to find a young man who had been in her father’s 
employ and had stolen a large sum of money. She almost succeeds, 
when suddenly all traces of the young man are lost. At this point 
she meets some old friends who are living in almost want and, in 
order to assist them through motives benevolent, she determines to 
sink her own aristocratic personality in that of a refined but humble- 
little Irish waitress with the family that are in want. She not only 
carries her scheme to success in assisting the family, but finds 
romance and much tense and lively adventure during the period of 
her incognito, aside from capturing the young man who had defrauded 
her father. The story is full of bright comedy lines and dramatics 
situations and is highly recommended for amateur production. This 
is one of the best comedies we have ever offered with a large num 
her of female characters. The dialogue is bright and the play is full 
of action from start to finish; not a dull moment in it. This is a 
great comedy for high schools and colleges, and the wholesome story 
will please the parents and teachers, We strongly recommend it. 

Price, JO Cents, 


PURPLE AND FINE LINEN. 

An exceptionally pretty comedy of Puritan New England, in three 
acts, by Amita B. Fairgrieve and Helena Miller. 9 male, 5 female 
characters. 

This is the Lend A Hand Smith College prize play. It is an ad- 
mirable play for amateurs, is rich in character portrayal of varied 
types and is not too difficult while thoroughly pleasing. 

Price, 30 Cents. 

(The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced) 


SAMUEL FRENCH, 2S-30 West 3Sth Street, New York City 

New asd Explicit Oescriptlve Catalogue Med Free on Request 


The Touch-Down 

A comedy in four acts, by Marion Short. 8 males, 6 females, but 
any number of characters can be introduced in the ensembles. Cos- 
tumes modem. One interior scene throughout the play. Time, 2}4 
hours. 

This P\ a y» written for the use of clever amateurs, is the story of 
life in Siddell, a Pennsylvania co-educational college. It deals with 
the vicissitudes and final triumph of the Siddell Football Eleven, and 
the humorous and dramatic incidents connected therewith. 

“The Touch-Down” has the true varsity atmosphere, college songs 
are sung, and the piece is lively and entertaining throughout. High 
schools will make no mistake in producing this play. We strongly 
recommend it as a high-class and well-written comedy. 

Price, 30 Cents, 

Hurry, Hurry, Hurry 

A comedy in three acts, by LeRoy Arnold. 5 males, 4 females. 
One interior scene. Costumes modern. Plays 2% hours. 

The story is based on the will of an eccentric aunt. It stipulates 
that her pretty niece must be affianced before she is twenty-one, and 
married to her fiance within a year, if she is to get her spinster 
relative's million. Father has nice notions of honor and fails to tell 
daughter about the will, so that she may make her choice untram- 
meled by any other consideration than that of true love. The action 
all takes place in the evening the midnight of which will see her 
reach twenty-one. Time is therefore short, and it is hurry, hurry, 
hurry, if she is to become engaged and thus save her father from 
impending bankruptcy. 

The situations are intrinsically funny and the dialogue is sprightly. 
The characters are natural and unaffected and the action moves with 
a snap such as should be expected from its title. Price, 30 Cents. 

The Varsity Coach 

A three-act play of college life, by Marion Short, specially adapted 
to performance by amateurs or high school students. 5 males 6 
females, but any number of boys and girls may be introduced in the 
action of the play. Two settings necessary, a college boy’s room and 
the university campus. Time, about 2 hours. 

Like many another college boy, “Bob” Selby, an all-round popular 
college man, becomes possessed of the idea that athletic prqwess is 
more to be desired than scholarship. He is surprised in the midst of 
a “spread” in his room in Regatta week by a visit from his aunt 
who is putting him through college. Aunt Serena, “a lady of the old 
school and the dearest little woman in the whole world,” has hastened 
to make this visit to her adored nephew under the mistaken impression 
that he is about to receive the Fellowes prize for scholarship. Her 

E ief and chagrin when she learns that instead of the prize Robert 
a received “a pink card,” which is equivalent to suspension for poor 
scholarship, gives a touch of pathos to an otherwise jolly comedy of 
•ollcfe life. How the repentant Robert more than redeems himself, 
carries off honors at the last, and in the end wins Ruth, the faithful 
little sweetheart of the “Prom” and the classroom, makes a story of 
dramatic interest and brings out very clearly certain phases of modern 
ooftege life. There are several opportunities for the introduction of 
ooHege songs and “stunts.” Price, 30 Cents. 

(Tho Above Are 8ubject to Royalty When Produced) 


SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th Street. Now York City 

Hi* it* Explicit Bcscrfpthrt Catalogue Mailed Free at Roquni 


FRENCH’S 

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Clyde Fitch 
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Richard Harding Davis 
Sir Arthur W. Pinero 
Anthony Hope 
Oscar Wilde 
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Jerome K. Jerome 
Cosmo Gordon Lennox 
H. V. Esmond 
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Rida Johnson Young 
Arthur Law 
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Roi Cooper Megrue 
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Augustin McHugh 
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